


Vital: Part One - Terra

by LoveisYonduBlue



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-01-05 03:57:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 50,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12182442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveisYonduBlue/pseuds/LoveisYonduBlue
Summary: When you find a blue alien man bleeding on your kitchen floor, you decide to save him, and things just get more complicated from there.





	1. Stranger

You drop your lunch bag and purse by the door, and after tossing your car keys on the side table, you sigh heavily. It was a long day at the hospital. Everybody needed you for something. You dig the heels of your palms into your eyes and yawn, slipping your jacket off to hang it on the peg.  Immediately you notice how cool it is in the house.

"Crap," you sigh. "Please don't tell me the heater is broken." You make your way to the thermostat in the other room - and stop in your tracks. The sliding door that leads to the backyard is open slightly, letting the cool autumn air seep in. The lock looks busted. You take one step nearer to it, and spot something on the carpet. It looks as if something's spilled - something a dark purplish blue. Whatever it is, there’s also a little smeared on the door.

You take a few steps back, then notice a trail of the blue stuff leading into the kitchen. You catch your breath, and grab the nearest heavy object - a small metal statue on the couch-side table - and advance into the kitchen.

You haven't turned on any lights yet, so it’s hard to see, but you think you see a larger, darker shadow in the corner. Tentatively, you flip the switch, hoping to catch whatever it is by surprise, and are praying it's not going to kill you as a result.

What is illuminated causes a loud gasp to tear from your throat - and you slap a hand over your mouth just in time to stifle it.

It's a man - but he's not Human.

His skin is blue, other than the mix of dark blue and silver stubble on his chin, and there's a tall pointed fin-looking thing protruding from the top of his otherwise bald head. He's slumped in the corner next to the dishwasher, legs outstretched, one hand plastered to his side. You see a small puddle of the blue stuff pooling under him. _Blood_. Instantly, your brain goes right back into doctor mode. You place the statue on the counter, well within reach, and approach him.

He didn't move when the lights came on, nor does he stir when you cautiously kneel by his side. Pictures of the Chitauri that hit New York have been circulating the internet and TV for years, and you're thankful that this guy doesn't look anything like them.  _He could be something worse,_  a small voice in your head says. But you focus on the blood again, and you push the voice out. You have a job to do here. You pull one of the ever-present plastic gloves from your pocket and put it on your hand.

You wave in front of the alien's closed eyes, but he doesn't stir, so you gingerly lift his arm away from his side and peel back the jacket he's wearing. A piece of shrapnel half as long as your hand is sticking out of his skin. You hiss softly in sympathy. "Geez. What happened to you?" you murmur. You study the wound and wonder how you're going to move him - he's at least as tall as you, and definitely heavier by the looks of it. You glance around, and your eyes rest on the kitchen table - if you can get him up there somehow, maybe you can take a closer look at the wound. You're about to turn back to him, when you feel a hand grab your head. You begin to thrash, yelling, and he yells something back in a language you can't understand. It’s a garbled sounding speech, intermittent with clicking noises. You feel him push something behind your ear and a subsequent sharp but brief pain. You thrash, punching out with your fist, and catch him in the jaw.

You leap to your feet, clawing behind your ear, where you feel something's been implanted under the skin. You can't get it out. You grab the statue off the counter, ready to smash it over his head. "What the hell did you do to me?" you're screaming.

"Dammit girl, calm down - it's just a translator chip!"

You freeze and stare down at him. You can understand what he's saying now. His eyes, a striking ruby-red, pierce into you.

Your head is spinning with a hundred questions.  _Who are you? WHAT are you? How did you get in my house?_ You take a few seconds to calm yourself and study him. The man is doing his best to glare at you, but you can tell he's tired. The corner of his mouth is purple with blood, and you notice a large bruise on the right side of his face that you didn't see before. A fine sheen of sweat has broken out on his forehead, and his hand is shaking as he presses it to his side. "What happened to you?" you ask finally.

He shifts slightly and winces; his face goes a paler blue for a minute. "Look, ya gotta towel or something I can use, I'll pull this thing out and be on my way." His voice is gravelly and rough.

"What?” you exclaim. “No!”

He looks up at you, slightly startled, and his eyes narrow. “Come again?”

"I can’t let you go anywhere with a wound like that."

He laughs roughly, and coughs. "Well girl, unless you're a doctor or somethin’ I don't think there's anything ya can do ’bout it."

You return a wry laugh. "Well, mister, it's your lucky day. Because it just so happens I  _am_  a doctor." You stand and walk over to him. "Come on. Let me get you on that table and see what I can do for you." You nod in the direction of the dining room table, and hold your hands to help him up.

He doesn't move. If anything, he backs further into the corner and fixes you with a suspicious glare. "Why?"

You drop your hands slightly. "Why what?"

"Why ya so keen on helpin' me?"

"Because you're bleeding all over my kitchen floor. And," you say with a slightly shaking sigh, "I made an oath when I became a doctor, to do no harm. And if I leave you here on the floor, I'll be doing harm. And if I call the police, or an ambulance, they might shoot you on sight, or you'll end up being dissected or god knows what else. And that’s doing harm. That's why. But I won't make you stay - if you really want to pull it out yourself and bleed to death, I guess that your choice."

He snorts with laughter, then his smile fades as he studies your eyes. "Yer serious, ain't ya. Yer gonna help me?"

"Yes, that's what I'm saying," you say, slightly exasperated. "So what's it gonna be, spaceman?"  You hold out your hands again.

With one more suspicious glance, he grips your forearms and struggles to get his feet under him, panting from the exertion. Once he's up, you change positions and sling his right arm over your shoulders, guiding him to the dining room table. He climbs onto it, and you help him gingerly out of his jacket before grabbing a cushion to place under his head.

You close the sliding door and draw the blinds, then with a quick "Don't move," to the alien, you run to the basement to grab your medical supplies.

You wash your hands, don fresh gloves, and turn on the light above the dining room table where lies. You see his pupils contract before he closes his eyes with a soft grunt.

"Sorry," you say. "I need to see what I'm doing here." You lay out your medical tools after sterilizing the kitchen counter, and grab a pair of trauma shears. "I hope you don't love this shirt," you comment as you cut it open to see the wound better. You cut the cloth carefully around the piece of shrapnel, catching your breath as the wound is revealed. The piece is bigger than you expected, but thankfully it looks like it's a pretty clean piece of metal, and the edges are sharp - not jagged. There are slight burns around the wound, so you surmise that it must have been hot when it entered.

As you peel away the shirt entirely, your eyes widen at the sheer number of scars criss-crossing the man's chest. It's a mix of what looks like burns, punctures, lacerations, and there's a odd crescent-shaped one that looks like it might have been made by teeth. The biggest that you can see is a long Frankenstein-esque scar that stretches almost the full length of his lower belly.

"Like what ya see?" the man says gruffly, and you crack a smile, ignoring the slight blush that comes to your cheeks.

He's fairly muscular, and besides the scars he's not bad looking. He has that dad-bod that has become all the rage – a look that you’re not opposed to in the least. "You've got a lot of scar tissue," you comment, trying to keep it professional. "Looks like you've been through the ringer."

He just grunts at this.

You douse the wound with alcohol, and swab up the blood. It's still bleeding, but you need to get that shrapnel out. You pause. Though he seems pretty much humanoid, you have no idea how his body is laid out - his anatomy might be completely different than yours. If only you had an imaging machine.

Then you remember something that was part of a shipment that the hospital got in after the Chitauri attacks in 2012 - a piece of tech from Stark Technologies' medical department. The hospital had given it to you to hold on to because there hadn't been room in storage at the time, and everyone - including you - had forgotten about it.

"Be right back!" you say quickly and rush down in the basement. After a few minutes of searching you find it, unbox it, and haul it up the stairs. It's more advanced than stuff you usually use at the hospital, but you get it up and running pretty quickly. It's a thin screen that’s supposed to be attached to an extending arm, but you don't have time to assemble it now. It works like an x-ray, but better, meant for preparing for invasive surgeries.

The screen flickers to life and you hold it between your hands, viewing the alien man's torso through it. You see a heart with what looks like two extra chambers; lungs, which are huge; some of the other organs are a little larger or smaller than you you're used to and it looks like he might have two livers, but everything looks pretty normal otherwise.  You hover over the wound spot - and breath a huge sigh of relief. "It didn't hit any organs. And it’s not in as deep as I thought.”

You take anesthetic out of the medical bag and are about to inject a syringe with it when you realize that you don’t know how it’s going to effect him. It could work like it’s supposed to on a Human, or it could kill him. Or, it could have no effect at all.

“This is an anesthetic, but-,” you begin.

“No,” he interrupts, eyes narrowing as he lifts his head slightly. “No anesthetic.” He lets his head drop back on the cushion, but his eyes stay on you.

“Ok, but this is going to hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah. Look, you got somethin’ to drink?”

“Like water? Or something stronger?”

“Strong as you got, girl.”

You peel off your gloves and go to the liquor cabinet. You would normally never allow a patient to be intoxicated during a standard operation, but there is nothing about this situation that is standard or normal. _Rum…bourbon…whiskey…_ you stop at the vodka when you spot something in the back – a moonshine some friends made a few years back that you know from personal experience will singe your nosehairs off. That’ll do.

“Can’t promise it’ll taste good, but I think this is the strongest I’ve got.” You pour him a glass and hand it over. He leans up on one elbow, grimacing, and downs it in one go. He hisses softly, gritting his teeth. “That’s good stuff,” he says, and gestures for the bottle, which, with a shrug, you hand over. He takes another sip straight from the bottle, then places it next to him and settles back. He grips the side of the table preemptively. “All right, girl. Let’s git this over with.”

You put a fresh pair of gloves on, and grab a pair of forceps that you’d been sterilizing in a glass of alcohol. A pad of gauze is handy nearby, and you place your hand firmly against his abdomen, close to the shard. Gripping the metal tightly, you pull.

The man squeezes his eyes shut, and you think you can hear his teeth grinding together. You bite your lip as the metal doesn’t seem to be giving – and then suddenly it budges. With a steady, even movement, you pull the shrapnel from his side. 

 _“Shit!”_ he growls as it comes free.

You drop it in the alcohol and press the gauze to his wound. You keep your hands there, pressing hard. Blue-purple blood is soaking the material. You look at him; he’s gone pale and sweaty, and he’s breathing fast.

“It’s ok,” you say gently. “The worst part is over.”

He gives you a slight nod.

You keep applying gauze, intermittently with alcohol, to make sure the wound is free of infection. When the blood isn’t coming as fast, you apply a hemostatic agent to speed up the clotting, and then put on a thick pad of gauze. He’s gone pretty still, his chest is still rising and falling deeply, but his breathing has slowed some.

“How’re you holding up?” you ask quietly, almost gasping as his red eyes snap open like lasers at you.

“M’tired,” he says, voice rougher than before.

“I’m gonna wrap up here, and then I’ll get a bed made up for you.”

“A bed?” he echoes in surprise.

“Well yeah, it’s not like I waved a magic wand and you’re all set to go on your way. You’re not healed yet. You probably need to stay here for a few days.”

“You’d…do that?” he asks, eyeing you as you circle a bandage around his chest. He leans up slightly so you can get under his back.

“Well yeah. I’m not going to just throw you out on the street.”

“Huh.” He’s quiet while you finish up the bandage. As you’re tying it off, he asks, “Ya got a name, darlin’?” His voice is still rough, but quieter, and even a little gentle.

You smile at him. “Doctor [y/n] if you want to be really professional about it, but you can just call me [y/n].” As you put away the supplies and clean up the instruments, you look at him expectantly. “What about you? What do I call you?”

“Yondu Udonta. Y’can call me Yondu.”


	2. Just Dropped In

You jolt awake. Usually you're a pretty heavy sleeper, but having an injured alien man sleeping in the next bedroom is making you a little jumpy. You look around the room, eyes getting used to the darkness, but you see nothing. Then you hear a groan, and talking. You slip out of bed and go into the hall to listen at Yondu's door. It's quiet for a moment, then you hear his voice. You knock softly and open the door.

The room is streaked with pulsing red light. You take a step backward in fear - until you realize it's coming from that fin on Yondu's head – currents of red run frantically along its surface. Yondu himself is tossing his head from side to side, hands clutching and un-clutching the sheets. "N-No..." he's gasping, his voice going strong and then faint. "Leave him... Ego… no....”

You approach him and in the moonlight filtering through the blinds, you see he's drenched in sweat.

"Quill...  don’t hurt Quill....”

You place the back of your hand lightly against his forehead. He's burning up. You noticed earlier that he naturally seems to run hotter than you do, but now he definitely has a fever. You exit the room and come back a minute later with a cold wet washcloth, and place your hand on his shoulder. "Yondu," you say, tapping him lightly. "Yondu, wake up."

The red light disappears from his fin and glows in his eyes as he wakes. As soon as he spots you, his hand seizes your throat. You gasp and clutch at his arm. His grip is like iron. "Yondu!"

His eyes widen and he snaps his arm back, releasing you. "G-girl? Shit.” He yanks the chain to turn on the bedside lamp. “ _Shit_ , you ok?"

You massage your throat and let out a shaky breath. "Yeah." Hesitantly you reach out and dab the washcloth against his brow. He breathes in sharply at the coldness of it, then relaxes. "Are  _you_  ok?" you ask. "You seemed like you were having a really bad dream."

"I don't dream," he says flatly.

"Well, you were this time," you say. "It must have been fever-induced. Your forehead was rocket hot." You take the washcloth away and feel his forehead. It feels like the fever might be breaking now. You continue to dab the cloth his face, and he leans very slightly against it in your palm, eyes drooping with exhaustion.

"Who's Quill?" you ask quietly.

At this, his eyes snap open and narrow sharply. He grasps your wrist that holds the washcloth, and gives it a harsh squeeze. "How do you know that name?" his voice comes out in a low, guttural growl.

You freeze, eyes wide. "Y-you were calling it out during your nightmare. 'Don't hurt Quill'? And something about - about Ego?"

He releases your arm, and suddenly he looks like he's aged several years. He runs a hand over his face. "Dammit." He sighs, then looks at you again. "Quill's my...he's my boy," he says at last.

"Oh,” you say quietly, dabbing at his face again. “You have a son?"

He diverts his gaze from yours and says softly, "Close to one as I'm ever gonna get." 

You can tell he doesn't want to say any more, so you don't press the matter. You monitor him for a few minutes more, but his fever has gone down considerably, so you get to your feet. “If you need me, just call.” Before turning back in, you get him a glass of cold water and place it at his bedside. “I hope you sleep better now.”

He just grunts, and not waiting for you to leave, turns out the light.

\----

When Yondu wakes, there’s sunlight creeping under the window shade. His head throbs slightly, but it’s nowhere near as painful as the ache in his side. He goes to heave himself up into a sitting position, and hisses. “Shit.” He peers down at his side, and sees the wound bled through a little during the night. He’s going to need your help to stitch it up, so he can leave. Except he doesn’t have a ship. His groan turns into a growl as he forces himself out of bed. Opening the door, he turns into the hallway – and almost runs smack into you.

“Oh geez,” you say, twirling slightly to keep the tray of medical supplies in your arms from tumbling to the ground. “Sorry. Good morning.”

“Mornin’,” he says.

“I was coming to put in some stitches. Are you up for that right now?”

“Yeah, sure.” He shrugs one shoulder and turning back into the room, sits back on the bed.

You have him lie down on top of the sheets, and gingerly remove the dressings from last night. You clean and sterilize the area, then ask, “Do you want me to numb it with ice or something?”

“No.”

“Ok, well…here we go then.” Working as quickly as you can to minimize Yondu’s discomfort, you stitch up the wound.

Yondu eyes you as you work. As you reach for another suture, he spies slight bruising on your wrist from where he grabbed it last night. A pang of guilt strikes him. _Shit._ He clears his throat. “Hey, about last night. I didn’t mean to hurt ya.”

You look up, pausing with your needle. “It’s ok,” you reply with a gentle smile. “I startled you when you woke up, you were disoriented, and obviously this Quill means a lot to you. No harm done, I bruise easily.”

By the time you’re done with the stitches, perspiration has broken out on his forehead, and he’s a little pale. But his breathing is steady, and his heart rate is lower from where you clocked it last night when you put him to bed. “All set,” you say, putting some gauze over the wound with medical tape, “Why don’t you rest for a little bit and I’ll go make us some breakfast.”

“Yer feedin’ me, too?”

 “No, I’m just going to let you starve.” You laugh. “Yes, of course I’m feeding you. I’m taking care of you while you’re a guest in my house.”

He just stares at you. _A guest? Girl, I broke into your home. I bled all over your floor. I almost strangled you last night. And here you are, givin’ me a place to stay and food to eat._ He stares at you as you gather up the supplies.

“I’ll come back up to get you when it’s ready – oh.” You snap your fingers and turn to the dresser in the corner, which is cluttered on top with framed photos and dusty knick-knacks. You rummage through a couple drawers, and hold up a couple pairs of pants and a few t-shirts, looking him over. "I think these might fit you. You look like you're about my brother's size. A little taller, but these will have to do until I can get you some other clothes. Why don’t you try these on right now, see if they work, and if not I’ll run out the store after we eat.”

You give him plenty of time to change, getting out stuff for breakfast, then return to his room and knock on the door. "You decent?"

"Naw, but I’m dressed," comes the smirking reply.

You cautiously open the door, and find him clothed in a pair of your brother's jeans and a black t-shirt. He’s broader than your brother, so the shirt is stretched over his muscles.

He's standing before the dresser, peering at the photos there. "This your brother?" he asks, pointing.

You come to stand by him and nod. "Yeah, that's him."

"Where is he?"

"He's...he passed away," you say, holding the picture frame.

"What happened?"

"He was a soldier. He was providing cover fire so his team could get out, and the building he was in got bombed." A growing lump forms in your throat. You feel Yondu's eyes on you, and look up into his face. His eyes seem darker, somewhat sad.

"You two close?" 

"Yeah."

"This yer daddy?" he asks, lifting a picture at the back of the dresser.

You smile. "Yeah."

Yondu looks from the picture to you, and back. "You look like him. Y'know, in a... prettier sorta way."

You laugh. "Thanks.

"He around, still?"

You shake your head. "No, he got cancer years back. Tumor, couldn't remove it."

He looks saddened by this, and gently places the frame back in place. "Just like Quill's Momma,” he murmurs, but it’s so quiet you don’t catch it.

“What?”

“Er, what about yer momma?”

“I didn’t know her. She ran off with some guy when I was a year old or so.”

“So yer daddy brought ya up.”

“Yep. He was a good dad.” You clear your throat, and he sees your eyes are a little glassy. You point at his shirt. "Well, I'm glad those clothes fit. I'm gonna get breakfast going. You take it easy, I'll come and get you when it's ready."

"Ok, darlin'."

Although he tries, Yondu is too awake now to rest anymore, so after about fifteen minutes, he gets to his feet again and makes his way down the stairs. It's harder without you helping him, but going down is easier than going up. He didn't really get a good look around your place last night - it's a clean little house, with a living room, dining room, and kitchen. A delicious smell is coming from the last room, and his stomach growls in anticipation. He hears music coming from that direction as well - he smiles slightly; it sounds like something that might be on the Zune he gave Quill.

He sidles into the kitchen; your back is to him where you're cooking at the stove. "Whatcha cookin'?"

"Oh!" You jump, nearly upsetting the pan. "Holy crap, you're quiet. Don't sneak up on me like that," you say, turning him to with a slight glare.

He just grins in response, leaning against the fridge.

"You shouldn't have come down the stairs by yourself. I told you I was coming to get you."

"I ain't no child," he replies with a slight frown.

"I didn't say you were," you say, turning back to the stove. "But you're injured, I want you to heal, not get worse."

He grumbles a bit, crossing his arms, but doesn't protest. 

"So what happened to you, anyway? You didn't give me an answer me last night. Did you crash or something? Because I assume you came here by spaceship. Or starship - or whatever you call it."

"Yeah, I crashed in them trees back there,” he says with a nod towards the window over the kitchen sink. Was flyin' without a copilot, which was stupid a’ me."

"I'm surprised that it didn't make the news. Or that the army isn’t on my doorstep."

He snorts. "Like to see 'em try to locate one a' my ships while cloaked n' jammed."

You pause, turning off the burner and turn to face him. "Wait, wait. You crashed in the trees? Past the field behind my house?"

"Yeah, so?"

"That's a pretty long way to drag yourself all the way to my house."

"I didn't  _drag_  myself," he says, eyes narrowing. "Stop talkin' about me like I'm some kinda cripple."

"I'm sorry," you reply gently. "I didn't mean any offense by it. I'm just impressed, you must be really strong. It's a long way to the tree line from here." You reach up for some plates and dish the food out, then carry them into the living room.

“I’ve lived through a lot,” Yondu replies, following you. There are two trays set up in front of the couch, one for you, one for him.

"Yeah, I can tell by the scars. Have a seat, spaceman.”

He lowers himself onto the cushions, settling his back against them, and you place the food before him.

"Look, I don't know if you're allergic to any foods, but -"

"I can eat anything, sweetheart."

"Ok, well. Just in case, if you feel weird or like you can't breathe or something, tell me right away."

"Yeah, yeah." He goes to pick up the food in his hands, and you clear your throat. He pauses and raises an eyebrow at you.

"There's a fork," you say, pointing.

"Ya tellin' me how to eat, now?"

"It's sticky," you say flatly. "I'd rather not have syrup all over my couch and tray and everything. If you could please eat with a fork I would appreciate it."

"Well, seein' as yer takin' care a' me and I am a guest an' all, I suppose I can use a fork."

"Thank you."

As you eat, you try to make conversation, which is easier than you expect. "So," you begin, swallowing a bite. "What do you do?"

He turns his head to you, eyes amused. "Do?"

"Do you have a job?"

To your surprise, he laughs. It's raucous and unashamedly loud, slightly raspy like his voice. It dies down to a gritty chuckle. "Yeah, I guess ya could call it that."

"Well, what is it?"

"I'm a Captain," he says.

"Oh, like in the army or something?"

"No. Like the Captain of a ship."

"Oh, wow." You put your fork down and turn to face him more fully. "That's amazing. What kind of ship?"

"A spaceship."

You snort and roll your eyes with a smile. "Well, yeah. I guessed that part. So you have a crew, I assume. What do you do? Is it military? Civilian? Or are you a pirate or something?" You laugh, raising an eyebrow. Your laugh dies in your throat as a slow grin spreads over his face, his teeth glinting like a shark's.

"Yeah," he drawls, "That might be the closest likeness."

"A pirate?"

He nods, slowly. "I'm what ya call a  _Ravager."_

"A Ravager."

"You got it, sweetheart. I steal, lie, cheat, and smuggle for a livin'." He smiles smugly at you; you've gone quiet. "Not what you wanted to hear?"

After a minute of looking him over, you offer a half-shrug. "Maybe not, but I can't say I'm shocked."

"Oh, really now. What gave it away?"

"The teeth," you grin.

"Ha!" He tips back the glass of orange juice and drains half of it. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "How long you been a doctor, sweetheart?"

"Been in the field about four years. Was in school before that for...geez, fifteen years?"

"Damn. What the hell kinda stuff ya learn in school that takes you that long?"

"Hey, the body is a complicated thing! Diseases and infections, anatomy, physiology, biology, kinesiology - you name it, pal, I've learned it. Plus of course there was my residency and everything."

He looks you over, hums. "Ya must be pretty damn smart."

You shrug. "I just retain stuff pretty well. Everybody has their own strengths, I'm not any smarter than you. Just different specializations."

He smiles at this. "Yer all right, honey. Most doctors I met got this high and mighty attitude, like they're the greatest thing since-"

"Sliced bread?"

He fixes you with a quizzical smile. "Was gonna say space jumps," he says, and you both laugh. "Anyhow. Yeah, I'm a Ravager, but ya don't got anythin' to worry 'bout, darlin'. Ya saved my skin, an' I won't forget it. I won't hurt ya or anythin', and I won't steal from ya."

You smile, and point to his empty plate. "Looks like you hated breakfast."

He glances down at it and grins. "Yeah, it was awful," he says with a wink.

You shove the last bite on your plate in your mouth and take his plate away. A minute later, he hears the faucet going, and the music starts back up. 

He gets to his feet, and peering around the corner, watches you wash the dishes. He hasn’t met many Terrans besides Quill, but he thinks you’re pretty cute; he likes the color of your eyes and hair, and your body is just his type, dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and jeans. He cocks his head slightly, smirking as your hips sway to the music. You have a pretty nice ass, too. His tongue runs subconsciously across his teeth. 

You hum in time with the music as you wash the dishes, scrubbing at the pan. You’re reaching for the soap when you feel fingers slide around your waist. You look down briefly to see blue hands, and you whirl. “Whoa, whoa. _Excuse_ _you,”_ you nearly shout, pushing against Yondu's chest. “Just what do you think you are doing?"

His hands let go the moment you turned, but he's grinning down at you. "Nothin'."

"Nuh uh. That was not  _nothing_. You just keep your hands to yourself, spaceman. For your information I have a boyfriend, so I am off-limits." You poke a finger in his chest, emphasizing the last two words.

He nods, still grinning, and holds up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Ok, ok. Off-limits. Got it."

You point to the living room. “Go sit down and I’ll be in in a second, make sure those stitches are holding,” you say sternly.

“Ok, darlin’.” He winks cheekily at you, and chuckles as he disappears into the next room.

You finish the last dish, and when you come into the living room, he's got a picture frame in his hand. "This him?"

"Yeah," you say.

Yondu studies the photo, and he can't put his finger on why, but he hates your boyfriend on sight. He's skinny, arms wrapped possessively around you, and the smile on his face just seems...fake somehow. Forced. "What's his name?"

"Devon."

"Devon," he repeats, hiding a derisive laugh.  _Hmph. Sounds like a wuss-ass name._  He looks him over again.  _Wuss-ass all right. Boy's got no muscle._ He replaces the frame on the couch-side table and sits.

As you inspect his stitches, you ask, “So how are you going to get back home?”

“Don’t know. Didn’t expect to crash. My wrist com got busted, so I can’t use that to contact my crew.” He rubs his neck. “Shit. Kraglin’s probably goin’ crazy lookin’ fer me.”

“Who’s Kraglin?”

“My First Mate. Dammit. If I can get back to my ship, there might be something I can find….”

“Well I have to go to work in an hour. These stitches look good, so please don’t do anything strenuous while I’m gone – like going out to your ship. Even walking too fast or too much could open these up. I’ll be back tonight. If your crew comes to get you while I’m gone, just leave me a sign, ok?”


	3. Hold On, I'm Comin'

It's late that night when you leave the hospital. As soon as your shift ended, your mind immediately went to Yondu. You were nervous about leaving an alien to his own devices in your home all day, but he said he wouldn't hurt you, and he wouldn't steal from you, and you decided that you had to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Hours later, you're still nervous, but for a different reason – a have vague sense of growing apprehension that you can't pin to any specific source. As you get in your car, you see dark clouds rolling in, and you try to swallow back the anxiety building in the pit of your stomach. You drive a little faster on the way home, fingers tapping impatiently on the steering wheel.

By the time you pull in your garage, rain is falling steadily.

You fumble with the door lock in your haste to open it, and the moment you walk inside, you know something is wrong. You feel it. "Yondu?" you call, placing your keys down. There's no answer. You walk through the living room, past the dining room, and into the kitchen, but all are empty. Swallowing, you go up the stairs, hoping and praying that he is in his bed, sleeping. 

He's not there. Your room and the bathrooms are also dead ends.

You go back down the stairs, now looking for some sort of sign that his crew picked him up, but everything is as you left it earlier, with the exception of an empty bag of chips on the couch, and a jar of peanut butter on Yondu's tray with spoon stuck in it, which you doubt is a message. You look around carefully, deliberately taking note of anything that looks amiss.

Your eyes land on the sliding door, and you see it's unlocked - that is not the way you left it.

With a gasp, you recall Yondu's earlier words.  _If I can get back to my ship, there might be something I can find._  Your face pales. If he ripped his stitches, he might be bleeding out, alone out there in the field or the woods somewhere. You snatch your raincoat, grab a flashlight, and stuff a roll of bandage into your pocket. You grab a blanket off the couch and tuck it under your arm in a messy roll. As a crack of lightning splits the sky in the distance, you race out into the field behind your house.

The flashlight beam cuts through the dark field in all directions, but you run towards the tree line at the far end. "Yondu! Yondu, can you hear me?" The wind is picking up, carrying your voice away. You shout louder, still running. "Yondu!" 

You cry out as you trip over a stone and go flying, landing hard on your knee as you try to keep the blanket out of the mud. "Dammit!" You scramble for your flashlight, which you dropped, and wipe the mud off it on your sleeve. You massage your sore knee for a second, then get back on your feet and continue your pace, sweeping the flashlight beam from side to side. The grass is dead, but it's still tall, and if he's fallen or lying down you might miss him.

Your heart crawls into your throat and stays there, a uncomfortable lump. Your anxiety is reaching a high, and you have the same sense of foreboding that you got when the man in the military uniform came to the hospital to inform you about your brother. 

You slow as you get to the tree line, brushing your way past branches and kicking through the brush. "Yondu!" The trees shield your voice from the wind, and it seems loud. You make your way around a large tree and gasp. A huge, bird-like ship lies mangled on the forest floor, small trees crushed under its weight. The windows are broken - one tree branch has punctured the main windshield; the wings bent and torn. Shrapnel lies everywhere, some even embedded into the tree trunks.

"Yondu?" you cry, stepping carefully around the wreckage. "Answer me! Where are you?" You skirt the hull and as you turn to duck around one of the wings, you almost trip over him. You gasp and fall to your knees, ignoring the wet leaves and soil soaking through the knees of your scrubs. "Yondu, Yondu wake up." You pull him against you, cradling his head, and to your relief he lets out a loud groan.

"Shiiit," he groans again. Breathing heavily, his eyes open and roll up to you. "Darlin'?"

"Oh geez, Yondu." His skin is chilled but sweaty. You shake out the blanket it and wrap it around his shoulders. "Are you okay?" Looking down and lifting his shirt carefully, you see blood smeared across his midsection. You bite back a noise of frustration. He broke the stitches. You told him to take it easy.  _Keep it together,_  you scold yourself.  _Don't get angry._  You shake his shoulder lightly. "Yondu. Look at me, focus. Can you walk?" He swallows, pauses, then nods, gripping the bent trunk of a sapling for support, and you see there's something clutched in his hand. "Give me that," you order, taking it out of his hand. It's some kind of metallic arrow. You wonder at it for a second, then stick it in your coat pocket. "Lean on me," you say, slinging an arm about his waist and pulling his arm over your shoulder. "That's it. Take it nice and easy."

He leans against you heavily, his footsteps slow. You have no idea how much blood he's lost, or how long he's been out here in the damp and cold. "One foot in front of the other. You're doing great." His hand clenches your shoulder, and you bite your lip against the pain as he stumbles and his nails dig through your jacket.

After what seems like an eternity, you reach the house. You get him onto the dining room table, where he collapses, head lolling to one side. You take his temperature, which seems a little high, and blood pressure and pulse, and work on removing the stitches. It's not on purpose per say, but as you put new stitches in, you're not as gentle as you were the first time. You warned him, gave him specific instructions before you left, but you should have known. You could tell he was stubborn right from the get-go. You sigh and settle back in your chair. It's going to be a long night. Sipping on coffee, you monitor him for hours, only leaving his side to change into some dry clothes and to use the bathroom. 

When he wakes at last at about 3 in the morning, he seems surprised at his surroundings. "The hell am I?" he asks gruffly, and you jump - you were starting to doze off. He starts to sit up.

"Don't you move!" you snap at him, and he stills, ruby eyes darkening into a crimson glare at you. "And don't you look at me like that. You could have died!" You throw your arms in the air. "What the hell were you thinking, going out there in your state? I told you to stay put, or those stitches would come out-"

"Y'all don't tell me what to do," he snarls.

You're a little startled at his tone, but you're too angry to be afraid of him right now. You put your hands on your hips. "I do when I'm your doctor."

""Y'ain't my doctor," he hisses.

"Well I don't see anyone else taking care of you right now!" you reply through gritted teeth. "Seriously, what you were thinking? Going out for - for this thing?" You snatch the arrow off the counter and wave it in front of him. "You couldn't wait until morning? It couldn't wait until your healed up?"

"Might be the only way m'crew can find me," he growls. "It ain't like yer around to ask, workin' these stupid long ass hours."

"Don't you talk to me like that," you snap back. "I saved your life!" A pang of regret strikes you at the words - you never, ever pull that card on anybody, but he's got you riled up.

"I didn't ask ya to!" he shouts, bolting upright. He lets out a sharp cry; his hand flies to his side.

All anger momentarily forgotten, you gasp and rush to him, supporting him. "Yondu! Careful, lay down before you open it up again!"

"Don't ya... give me orders...." he says. He tries to say it menacingly, but his voice comes out panting.

"Just lay down," you say softly, with a gentle push on his shoulder. "Please."

He doesn't argue with you this time, and you inspect his side. Thankfully the stitches held, but there's a little blood at the edges of the wound, which you pad with gauze and medical tape.

You slump into the seat at his side, and you just stare at one another for a several minutes.

"How long I been lyin' here?"

You glance at the microwave clock. "About three or four hours, I don't know. I can't remember when we got back."

"When'd ya get home?"

"A little before that. When I couldn't find you, I freaked out. You had me worried sick."

His eyes widen slightly and he adjusts his head on the pillow to look at you more fully. "You was worried, 'bout me?"

You nod. "Well yeah, of course I was."

"Why?" comes the hoarse, unbelieving whisper.

"Because I don't want to see you hurt, I didn't want you to die out there," you say quietly. "Now get some sleep."

"Why not?"

You let out an exasperated laugh. "Wh-what? What kind of question is that? I don't wish death on anybody! Besides, I'm sure you have people that care about you, back wherever you came from! Like - what was his name? Kraglin? And Quill? I'm sure they don't want to lose you, right?"

Yondu grows absolutely still. His eyes glaze over slightly, remembering something you can't even guess at. He turns his head back, staring up at the ceiling, lips pressed tightly together. You're not sure, but you think you see the glint of tears in his eyes. You don't mention this, and instead grab a blanket off the couch and drape it over him.

"Get some sleep," you repeat. "I'm going to stay here on the couch, in case you need anything during the night. I work the late shift again tomorrow so I don't have to go in early." You turn off the lights, make sure he has water near him in case he wants it, and curl upon the couch, closing your eyes.

You don't see Yondu crane his neck to watch you.


	4. You May Be Right

When he wakes, light is streaming in the window over the kitchen sink. He lifts his head slightly, turns to look at you on the couch, but you're not there. He considers getting up to look for you, but on second thought, he stays put. He doesn't want to get you worked up again, and it'd be damned ungrateful to loose the stitches a second time. He spies his arrow on the counter, and licking his lips, whistles. The arrow shivers ever so slightly, but the lights don't activate, and upon a second try, it doesn't even move.  _Shit._  He knew it was broken as soon as he reached the ship - he couldn't feel the echo of it in his implant. If Kraglin or Rocket were here, they'd be able to fix in it no time. They were the ones who fixed it after the fiasco with Ego. A tracking device was installed inside at Quill, Stakar and Kraglin’s insistence. If the arrow was active, the  _Quadrant_  and the  _Eclector II_  would be able to lock onto its location. 

If he didn't find a way to fix it, he might be stranded here for weeks. Months, even. He sighs and closes his eyes against the brightening sunlight.  _Guess it could be worse. Got a pretty girl takin' care a' me at least, gotta count for somethin'._  A fleeting grin passes his lips, recalling your argument from last night. You've got some spine - it's not just anybody who will stand up to him, especially when he's in a no-bullshit type mood like he was. You took his sass and gave it right back, and then you turned around and were the sweetest damn thing he's ever met, all gentleness and concern. You're a puzzle, that's for damn sure.  _Well what do you expect when dealin' with a woman?_  he lets out a breathy chuckle, wincing as the motion jostles his side, and he frowns.  _Still recoverin' from the vacuum,_ he thinks, scowling. _Ten years ago, this woulda been nothin'._ He sighs. _She was right, it was stupid a' me to go out there last night._  

\----

You stand in the shower, trying to wake yourself up. That all-nighter is going to really kill you during your shift later. Fighting valiantly - and failing - to stop a yawn, you do a final rinse and turn off the faucet. As you towel off, your thoughts drift again to Yondu, who you left sleeping downstairs. His words last night surprised you - like he honestly couldn't believe that you were worried about him. _There's some weird insecurities going on there._  You run the towel through your hair, and step into your room to get dressed. As you pull a sweater on, you shake your head. This whole situation is so unreal. An alien, from outer space, is lying on your dining room table. You've eaten together, joked around, and argued. And never, apart from that first night, has he made you feel afraid. Despite him being injured, you feel pretty safe around him.

You wonder why for a minute, then pick up your phone to check any messages. After answering a couple emails, you text Devon to see how he's doing - you know he had a double-shift at his site yesterday. You feel like he's had a lot of those lately. You've been working nights a lot, too. Colder weather always seems to mean more sick people.

After blow drying your hair, you put it up in a ponytail and go downstairs. Yondu's head turns to you as you walk into the kitchen "How long have you been awake?"

"A while," he says. "D'ya think I can get up? This table is killin' my back, darlin'."

"Just move carefully." You stand by to support him, but he takes his time getting on his feet. Bending back, his spine crackles. "Damn. Don't get old, sweetheart."

You laugh. "Come on, you're not old."

He smirks. "How old d'you think I am?"

"I don't know, I'm really bad at guessing  _Human_  ages."

"I'm in my 60s."

You laugh. "No, you're not. No way."

He nods. "Afraid so."

"Well you look good. I would have guessed  _maybe_  early 50s."

He chuckles. "Don't hafta be nice, darlin'."

"I'm not. I'm just being honest." You smile. "How are you feeling? Besides a sore back."

"Fine enough. I'll take it easy today, promise."

"Thank you. Listen,” you say gently, “I'm sorry I yelled at you yesterday."

"Don't be, I deserved it. Should'a listened to the doctor."

You offer him a smile. "I'm just glad you're ok. Why don't you have a seat and I'll make us some breakfast. Or, an early lunch," you say, glancing at the clock. It's later than you thought.

Awhile later, you place sandwiches before the two of you. You're about to take a bite when your phone chimes. It's a text message from Devon. < _Hi babe, busy day yesterday, sorry we couldn't chat. Hope you're good, stay beautiful. > _There's a little heart at the end of the message, and you smile, texting him a heart back. < _I have the late shift tonight, you still on for dinner on Tuesday? >_

 _< Sure>,_ he answers.

You nod and put the phone back on the tray. 

"D'you like him?"

"What?" you say around a mouthful of sandwich. "Who?"

"Yer boyfriend."

You laugh, giving a half shrug. "Yeah, I like him. Why else would I be dating him?"

"How long you been together?"

"About a year. Why are you so interested?"

"Ya don't seem so sure about him. Ya sure don't talk about him much. Do ya love him?"

You give a laugh that's half scoffing. "I - I don't know, we've only been together a year."   _Who are you to say, or even ask about this?_  But before you realize it, words are spilling out of your mouth. "Things have been a little rocky lately. We haven't seen a lot of each other because of our work schedules. But we're going out to dinner on Tuesday, and we have a big date on Friday - we both have the day off. I'm sure things will smooth out, we just need to work on it." Yondu seems at least satisfied enough not to comment, and you eat in a silence for a few minutes. "How about you? You have anybody special up there in space?"

He lets out a derisive laugh. "Me? Naw. Can't be tied down in my line a' work. Shack up with a woman in ev'ry port we land in." He's about to continue when he sees you've gone quiet. He clears his throat. "At least that's the way it's always been. I don't got nobody yet, anyhow."

"Sounds kinda lonely," you say.

"Don't got time to be lonely when yer on missions stealin' shit all the time, jobs to be done, takin' care a’ the ship an' crew." As soon as the words leave his mouth, Yondu wants to kick himself. Here's this nice girl, trying to make conversation, and he's tramping all over it, building up his walls even higher than they already are. 

"Well, you can be busy and still be lonely."

"Yeah," he agrees quietly, "Suppose yer right."

You finish your meal in silence, then with a decisive push, you move your tray out of the way, clearing your plate. You leave the room and come back holding his arrow. You waggle it at him. “You know what’s really weird about this?” you ask.

“Wassat?” he asks.

You turn around and reaching back, pull your shirt off your shoulder. Tattooed on your shoulder blade is the image of an arrow, pointing upwards. You look back over your shoulder to see his mouth drop slightly.

“Well I’ll be damned.”

“My brother took me to get it when I was eighteen. Dad was furious when he found out, but I got it to remind myself to keep moving forward.” You turn back to him, smiling, and raise his arrow in your hand. “What are the odds, huh?”

“That is mighty strange,” he concedes.

"So what is this thing, anyway?” you ask, handing it over.

"My Yaka arrow. It's...a weapon."

You let out a cry of dismay, and it falls from your hands at the statement. Yondu snatches it before it falls to the ground. "A weapon! It's not going to blow up my house or something, is it?"

"No, a' course not!” he says in an offended tone. “Ain't that type a' weapon. It's a lot more... elegant." He grins, and just like when he told you he was a Ravager, you get an overwhelming impression of a shark.

"So how does it work?" you ask, sitting beside him

"It don’t,” he says, frowning. “It's broke. And the trackin' device don't work if the arrow don't, so my crew can’t find me."

“They’ll try, though, right? The won’t just give up, will they?”

“Not a chance in hell if Kraglin has anything to say about it.”

You lean over him to look at it in his hands, and the scent of your shampoo washes over him. Fruity smelling, and it's kinda nice.

"I have a friend who is really into building technology stuff, she's really smart. She works at Stark Industries,” you say, looking up into his face, raising your eyebrows.

"That supposed to mean somethin' to me?"

"Stark Industries? Tony Stark? Iron Man? No?" You shake your head. "Nevermind." You retrieve your phone, and delicately take the arrow out of his hands, placing it on the tray before you. Holding your phone, you snap a few pictures of it, zooming in on the areas Yondu indicate are damaged. "I’m sending her the photos now, then I’ll give her a call and see if she can help." You send the photos by text, along with a message. < _Need help fixing this. Any ideas? Let me know when you can talk. >_

About ten minutes later, your phone chimes.

_< Call me.>_

You dial your friend. "Hey," you say, hearing her pick up. "Did you get the photos I sent you?"

The voice on the other end is loud, and Yondu can hear every word.  _"Yeah. What_ is _that? Where did you get it?"_

"I found it in the field behind my house. Do you think you could fix it? Or tell me how _I_ could fix it?"

 _"I don't know, [y/n]. What if it's some kind of Chitauri thing?"_ your friend asks, and Yondu snorts loudly. You smack his leg to silence him, and you don't see, but he grins at you. “I don't think it is. It's probably just some kind of drone or toy." At this, Yondu smacks  _your_  leg, and you glare at him. "What do you think? Could you tell me what I might need to get it working?"

_"Yeah, I guess. The photos are pretty good, and you're pretty handy, so I'll email you a list of things you might want to get. If you can't find them online, message me and I can probably find them for you."_

"Thanks, you're the best. I've just been looking for something to do when I can't get together with Devon."

_"Still dating him, huh?"_

"Yeah, why?" There’s silence on the other end of the line. “What?" you ask, frowning.

_"Nothing. How are you guys doing?"_

"Fine. Work has been crazy for both of us, but we’re working through it. Look, I gotta go - have some things to do before my shift tonight. Thanks for your help."

_"No problem, just... don't - you know, don't set off a bomb or something."_


	5. Time Passages

Days pass. You try to keep Yondu up to date on your fluctuating work schedule, and make sure he has food and everything he needs while you’re gone. You make sure he knows how to use the TV and microwave; he mutters under his breath about "backwater Terran technology," but doesn't complain. He doesn't ask about Devon any more, to your relief, and takes it easier moving around with his stitches.

As the days go on, Yondu starts to become rather fond of you. He likes your spirit, and if he’s honest he kind of likes the way you fuss over him. His favorite thing about you is that you don’t judge him, you treat him like anybody else - he doesn’t understand why you’re like that, but he likes that he can talk to you and be comfortable around you. He'd never ever admit it to anyone, and has a hard enough time admitting it to himself, but he's a little lonely when you're gone. He’s never been one-on-one with anybody for a length of time like this, let alone a woman.

A few days after he’d gone looking for the arrow, he wakes up to find you've already left. He remembers that you had an early shift today.

When he goes downstairs, there's a couple of cardboard boxes where he usually sits, along with a bag full of various tools. There's what looks like a little tablet on top of the boxes, with sticky note with an arrow drawn on it, pointing to a button on the tablet. He presses the button with his thumb, and sees a still of your face appear on the screen. He taps the screen with his finger, and discovers that it's a video.

 _"Good morning spaceman!"_  You say with a smile. He can't help but smile in return.  _"In the boxes are what my friend thinks you might need to fix that arrow of yours. Hopefully this can keep you occupied while I'm gone - I'm working two day shifts today, and then I'm catching dinner with Devon tonight. There should be leftovers on the bottom shelf of the fridge, just heat them up in the microwave - no more than 3 minutes. Anyway...I'll uh, I'll talk to you later. Hope you have a good day."_  Another smile, a short wave of your hand, and the video stops playing.

He still stares at the screen at your smiling face.  _Well damn darlin', that was mighty thoughtful._  He gazes down at the boxes, which have been opened already for him, and begins taking out parts.

\-----

Hours later, Yondu glances out the window. It's starting to get dark, and you're probably going have your dinner with Devon soon. An unbidden scowl springs to Yondu's face at the thought. He glances at the photo of him and you on the couch side table. His hands will be all over you tonight.

He has no concrete reason to dislike the boy; he’s never met him, never seen him outside the photo, but he’s not attentive, he hasn’t called or messaged you out of his own volition that Yondu has noticed.

You’re sweet, patient, and caring, friendly and a little sassy, and Yondu appreciates it all. If _he_ were lucky enough to have a woman like you, you better be damn sure that you’d know it. His scowl deepens, thinking of Devon holding you, kissing you, taking you to bed. He suppresses a growl and tips the frame down so he doesn't have to look at Devon's ridiculous face.

He huffs, then disliking the quiet that the house has fallen into, switches on the TV, just to have some background noise. You left it on some kind of nature channel. He rolls his eyes, but shrugs. It's fine, he's not really watching anyway.

He works for a while on his arrow; he feels like he made semi- decent progress today – at least he knows what areas are really affected, and the tools you have aren't bad. It’s not ideal, but he might just be able to get the arrow up and running again. Occasionally, he feels a flicker through his implant, but when he whistles, nothing happens. He bends over the weapon, peering through a tabletop magnifying glass he found in your tool bag, and he's so intent on his work that when the outer garage door opens, he jumps.

The inner door clicks, and you enter, looking tired.

"Hi darlin’," he says, "Didn't expect ya back so soon."

"Yeah." You give him a smile, and it tugs at his heart a little - you seem sad. "Did you eat yet?" you hold up a plastic bag with carryout boxes in it.

"Not yet.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Didn't Devon think it was kinda strange, ya gettin' a whole other meal to take home?"

"No," you sigh angrily, flopping down on the couch next to him, "Because Devon didn't show."

 _"What."_  He doesn't mean to, but the word comes out in a growl, and you snap your head up to look him. "He stood you up?"

Your shoulders sag and you avert your eyes. "No, he just...he forgot."

Yondu's fist clenches around his arrow. "Uh huh." 

"Look, I don't want to talk about it. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah." Yondu clears off the tray, placing everything neatly in the empty boxes. 

You eat in silence while you watch some documentary about sharks, but Yondu can't keep quiet after the show is done. "He do this to you a lot?"

"What?"

"Yer boyfriend. He forget about you a lot?"

"He's busy," you say lamely, poking at a piece of lettuce on your plate with your fork. "We both have a lot going on with work. He apologized after I called him up. What do you care, anyway?" you add, glancing over at him.

Yondu pushes the tray away from himself and adjusts his position on the couch, leaning with one arm along the back of the sofa. "Ya done real good by me, darlin'. Jus' hate to see anybody usin' you is all."

"He's _not_ using me," you say, crossing your arms.

"Okay, okay. Bad choice of words maybe. Jus' don't like seein' you hurt, doll."

Your folded arms loosen up a little. "Thanks," you murmur. You point to the boxes. "Were you able to work on your arrow today?"

He heaves a sigh and scratches his beard. "Yeah, been tryin’." He starts taking pieces out, pushing the carryout boxes aside. Amidst the parts, he pulls out a little bulldog bobblehead figurine, something you remember seeing on your brother's cluttered dresser.

You press on its head, sending it wagging, and Yondu glances at it, lips pulling back in a brief grin. He glances at you. "Hope ya don't mind, I like that lil' bugger."

You laugh. "No problem."

"I collect 'em. Little figures n' stuff like that. Put 'em on my control console,” he says proudly. 

 _You're a big bad space pirate and you collect bobble heads and trinkets on your dash._  You giggle. "That's adorable."

A tinge of purple flushes across the tips of his ears and cheeks, and he grumbles something under his breath, but he's still grinning.

“If you like it so much, you can have it.”

He stops halfway through getting something out of a box and he looks up at you. "I can?"

You shrug, but a small sparkle in his eyes makes you smile even wider at him. "Yeah. My gift to you. To remember me by when you’re gone.”

“Well shit. Thanks, honey.” He seems very flattered. He moves it a little closer to himself, and continues taking out pieces. Once all the parts are out, along with the arrow, he leans back into the cushions, folding his arms. The grin disappears. "If Kraglin were here, he'd know exactly what to do. That boy can fix damn near anythin'."

"How long has he been on your crew?"

"Shit, a  _long_  time. Been with me since he was just a kid." His eyes lapse out of focus for a second, and he smiles fondly at some memory. "He's stuck with me through everything, all these years. Most loyal mate a captain could ask fer." 

"What's he like?"

"Kraglin’s on the quiet side, kinda gentle an' friendly. A bit unusual for a Ravager, but he makes it work because he can turn around and be the biggest hard ass you've ever seen. No one can fight like that boy, though you'd never guess it from lookin' at him. Never seen a harder worker, better pilot, or somebody as good with mechanics as him. Yeah, he makes me real proud, that boy." His eyes widen at his own words, and his mouth drops open a little.

"You okay? What's wrong?"

"N-nothin'. Jus'... I never realized how proud I am of him,” he says, his voice low as if he’s talking to himself. He swallows hard. "My life sure would be different without that boy. Jus' like it'd be different without Quill." He's silent for a few minutes as he runs his hand along the back of his neck. "Shit," he says at last. "I guess I never realized how much Kraglin's like my boy too. Guess I've never really been away from him fer so long." He lets out a soft little laugh. "That's what it took with Quill, ya know...he went off on his own, and it wasn't until he was gone that I realized...." He trails off, catches your eye, and his face hardens. He turns away. "Shit, talkin' like a sentimental old fool."

"No, you're not," you say, and the sternness in your voice causes him to raise an eyebrow. "Showing love for those you care about isn't a weakness. If you've never told Kraglin how much you care about him, I think you should. What if something happened to you, and he didn't know? I think that's the first thing you should do when you see him again."

Yondu gnaws his lower lip, rolling the arrow back and forth across his tray for a minute or two with one finger. "Yeah, maybe yer right."

\---------

The next day, you come home from a long day shift and you throw yourself onto the couch next to him. "Why isn't it Friday yet? I am so ready for a day off."

He smiles as he peers through the tabletop magnifying glass at his arrow. 

"How's it going?"

He shrugs. "Not much better, but I'm keepin' at it."

"You're smart, I know you'll be able to fix it."

He glances over at you, smiles.

"Okay, spaceman. I'm gonna go get a shower, then I'll figure out something for dinner." You get to your feet, and immediately regret it. The room spins, darkness floods in from the corners of your eyes.

"Darlin'!"

You feel your feet slip out from underneath you, then you're caught by strong, muscular arms. "Whoa."

"Easy, baby, easy." You're hefted upwards, and you instinctively curl your arms around Yondu's neck. Your vision clears, and you realize he's carrying you, bridal-style. "You okay?" he asks. His brows are drawn together, his eyes wide with concern. You've never noticed how many shades of red are in his eyes before. Then again, you've never been this close to his face.

"Y-yeah, I just stood up too fast I guess."

He narrows his eyes, studying you. "When'd ya eat last?"

"Um." You frown in thought as he lies you down on the couch, pushing a pillow behind your head. "Wow, like 6 this morning? I guess I accidentally skipped lunch. But I'm fine."

"Don't tell me yer fine. This ain't fine." Yondu says, pressing his lips together in a frustrated, thin line. "Ya stay right there." 

There's the sound of him rummaging in the kitchen cupboards, and he comes back a minute later with a jar of nuts, some peanut butter and a spoon, and an apple. Then he gets a knife, and slices the apple up for you. "Yer gonna eat all this," he orders. "I'll feed it to ya if I hafta. But y'ain’t gettin' up until it's gone."

"Do I have to eat the  _entire_  jar of nuts and the  _entire_  jar of peanut butter?"

He chuckles, sitting next to you. "Yeah," he says with a slight roll of his eyes. "The whole damn thing."

As you eat, you notice he keeps stealing glances at you every couple minutes. "I'm fine," you repeat. "Honest."

"Yain't gettin' up til I'm satisfied," he replies, nodding at the apple.

A blush springs your cheeks at the unintended innuendo. You make yourself busy with the apple slices to hide it. You swallow a bite, then clear your throat. "Hey - how's your side doing today?"

He lifts up the corner of his shirt. "Not too bad. Feels a lot better, don't ache as much."

You lean over and inspect it, pulling a new glove out of your scrubs pocket and slipping it over your hand. You press gently around the stitches, watching his face. He doesn't wince, doesn't express any pain. "You're healing up really well. That's good."

"And when I'm all better, ya gonna boot me outta here?"

You look up into his face, and his eyes lock with yours. "No, of course not. You're welcome to stay until your crew finds you, or until you have a way to contact them."

Reaching down, he takes your hand and squeezes it gently. You never realized how _big_ his hands are – they are easily twice the size of yours. “I appreciate all yer doin' fer me, darlin'," he says, letting go. "Hope ya know that."

"Well, it's nice to have some company. As unusual as that company might be," you add with a smile. You nod at the apple core. “Satisfied?”

“Yeah, darlin’.” He extends a hand to help you up, watching you carefully. “Ya good?”

“Thanks, I feel fine now.”

\-----

The day after, you're in your room, folding laundry. You've got music on to help the task go faster, and hum and bounce your hips to the tune. You bend over into the laundry basket to grab another handful of clothes when you hear Yondu's voice say, "There ya are."

You look up to see him standing in the door. He leans against the wall, nearly filling the whole frame. He's got a pair of black jeans on, along with a grey wife beater that makes his muscles look even more pronounced than usual. Your eyes trail over the starburst-like collection of scars on his right shoulder and the circular scar patterns around his neck. "Hi," you say, shaking the wrinkles out of a shirt. "Looking for me?"

He shrugs. "Jus' wondering where ya was. It’s quiet down there without ya."

You straighten up, putting a hand on your hip, and smile at him. "Aww, were you lonely?"

"What? Naw," he shakes his head vigorously, then pauses. "Well, maybe a bit," he smirks, a bottom tooth poking out from his lip like a bulldog's fang. "It's rare yer home durin' the day."

"I know, I'm sorry I've been gone so much."

"Ain't yer fault. Ya got a job to do. Jus' not used to the quiet, I guess. Always noise on the ship."

"Well don't hang in the door like a stranger, you can come in if you want."

He steps into your room and peers around. "Nice. A lot of blue in here. Ya like blue, darlin'?"

"Blue is one of my favorite colors," you say without thinking, folding a pair of pants.

"Oh  _really?"_  the words come out in a sly, teasing tone.

You look up at him, and he's got that shark's smile again.  _HE'S blue, you idiot!_  you think frantically, and you hold up a shirt to hide your blushing face.

He lets out a loud laugh, and you feel his weight shift the bed where you're sitting. You lower the shirt as you fold it, and he's right in front of you, grinning so wide that his eyes sparkle. "Yer pretty cute, ya know that, doll?"

You swallow, averting your eyes to a pair of socks. "I'm also taken," you say softly.

His smile is gone instantly, and he leans away. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. Yer right, that was outta line,” he says gruffly. He gets to his feet and heads towards the door.

"No, it's ok,” you say quickly. “I'm sorry. Don't go."

"Naw, I... I better get workin' on my arrow." With that, he's gone.

Your shoulders sag and you're puzzled at the flicker of sadness and regret that pass through you at his absence. You wonder if you should chase after him, and you get halfway up from your place on the bed. But Devon flashes into your mind, and you seat yourself again. 

 _What would he think if he saw me acting like this? Get a grip, [y/n]. You have a sweet boyfriend who's taking you on a big date tomorrow._  Reaching for your phone, you text him. _ <Hi, hope you're having a good day, was just thinking about you. Xoxo>_ 

As you hit send, your heart seems heavier, not lighter.

 

\---

That night, the atmosphere is tense between you and Yondu. He's not very talkative, so you eat dinner in silence, except for the TV noise.

"Yondu?" you ask after you've cleared the dishes away.

He turns his face to you, but says nothing.

"Listen, I want to apologize for earlier. I know you were just teasing and having fun. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

He offers you a smile, but there's no joy in it - it's a mean looking expression, more like a snarl than a smile. "I'm an old Ravager, girl. Don't ya worry 'bout hurtin' any  _feelings,_ I got no heart to break _."_

"Stop, come on, we both know that's not true."

"What if it is, girl? What if everything I've told ya is a damn lie?"

"You wouldn’t do that.”

“I’m a Ravager, remember?”

“A Ravager isn't all you are."

He leans in towards you. "Ya don't know me, girl," he snarls in earnest, teeth flashing. "Don't pretend like ya do."

You scowl back at him. "Why are you being like this? You're the one who was flirting with _me_ when I have a boyfriend!"

"Yeah, a boyfriend who forgets about ya and uses ya like a damn plaything!"

You stand up, angry tears in your eyes. "Stop it! He doesn't use me! You're - you're just jealous!"

He stands also, towering over you. He lets out a mirthless, barking laugh. "Jealous! A' what, exactly? Seems like you deserve each other! Couple that works all the damn time and never sees each other!"

This cuts your heart to the core. "It's not like I want it to be that way!” you shout. “I don't mean to be busy all the time! I - I'm just trying to help people get better so they can be with their  _families!"_  Your voice breaks at the last word, and a tear rolls down your cheek.

Yondu takes a step back, and all anger disappears from his face. You wipe the tear away with a fist and turn quickly from him, disappearing into the kitchen. A minute later, he hears loud clanking of pans and the rush of the faucet.

He stays where he is, breathing heavily. His shoulders slowly relax, and a heaviness he doesn't want lays on his heart. "Aw shit," he murmurs with a sigh. Willing his feet to move, he quietly walkers towards the kitchen and peers in. You're scrubbing furiously at a pan; your cheeks are flushed with anger and the threat of tears. 

You see him out of the corner of your eye and spin so your back is more fully to him, only turning to smash the pan into the drying rack before reaching into the sink again. You yelp, pulling back and clutching your hand. He sees a small trickle of red run down your palm. He whips the towel off the fridge handle and seizes your hand, pressing the towel against the cut. He spies a knife half-hidden in the soapy water.

You stand there, biting your lip against the sting, fighting not to look at Yondu. But you feel his eyes on you, his gaze boring into the top of your head, and raise your eyes when you can’t stand it any longer.

His eyes hold no trace of anger, just regret. "I didn't mean to make ya cry," he says softly. "Didn't even mean to argue. It’s always my first reaction, it’s just how I…." He trails off with a shrug, eyes lowered to your hand.

You sniff and lean into him slightly. "I'm sorry I called you a dick."

He raises an eyebrow. "Ya didn't."

"Oh. Well, I was thinking it."

He chuckles with a slight shake of his head. “Come on, let’s get this cleaned up, darlin’.” He steers you to the upstairs bathroom and helps you clean and bandage the cut. Luckily, it’s small and just needs a band aid.

“So ya got yer big date tomorrow?” he asks quietly, sticking the small bandage on your hand.

You nod.

“Well, I hope ya have a good time, sweetheart,” he says with some difficulty. “Ya deserve it.”


	6. How Long (Has This Been Going On)

"Ok, food's in the fridge, garbage is out, laundry's in the dryer...." You tick items off your fingers that have kept you running around all morning. You pop into the bathroom to fix your hair, and head downstairs.

Yondu is working on his arrow on the couch, and he turns as he hears you come down. His eyes widen, taking you in. You’re wearing a dress with leggings underneath and some flat shoes – nothing fancy, but your hair is in a French braid, you’ve got earrings on, and you’re wearing more makeup than you usually do. You blush, ducking your head to avoid his stare. “Damn, ya look great, sweetheart.”

You let out a nervous giggle and smile. “Thanks.” You sling your purse over your shoulder, and your phone rings from where it’s charging on the dining room table.

“That better not be the hospital! I’m _not_ going in,” you say under your breath, crossing the room. Your hand darts out to grab the device, but your fingers pause, pull back just before they reach it. “Devon? Why are you calling me?" you murmur, shooting an anxious glance at Yondu. "Hey sweetie," you say, holding the phone up to your ear.

There's murmuring on the other end of the line, and Yondu watches as your face falls, transforming quickly from disbelief to disappointment, to anger. You practically throw your purse to the ground as you march into the kitchen, disappearing from his view. "You said you had the day off! I swear, Devon, I-" You break off, and a moment later you sigh deeply. "Yeah. Yeah, I know it's not your - fine, fine! I'm just upset, okay? We've been planning this for weeks; did you tell your boss that? …And he can't get anyone else to cover you? …Of course not." Another heavy sigh. "No, no, I know it's not your fault. Just...just call me when you're off, ok? Maybe we can still get together later....Okay. Okay, yeah. Bye." There's the clatter of plastic being dropped onto one of the kitchen counters, a creak, and the slight shuff of clothing. 

Tentatively, Yondu gets to his feet and peers in the kitchen. You've slid down against the refrigerator to sit on the floor, knees drawn up, arms folded across them. 

"Ya okay, sweetheart?" he asks, willing his voice to be gentle. Inwardly, he's furious. If Devon was here, he'd ring the kid's damn neck for hurting you again.

You laugh sarcastically, then look up at him. His eyes, normally so edgy, so sharp and with a fire behind them, are now soft and focused solely on you. "Yeah, I'm fine," you murmur.

You sit there for several minutes, but Yondu doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything. He _wants_ to say a lot of things, but cussing out Devon would not help and would probably just make you angry. He doesn’t want a repeat of last night’s mistakes.

After a minute, you slap your knee and get to your feet. "You know what, I'm not going to let this ruin my day. This is my first day off in months. Let's do something fun. You ever play video games?'

Yondu beats you at the racing game, but you beat him at the first-person shooter. He maintains that it's nothing like wartime blasterfire, which you agree with, and don't press the fact that he's seen war - he doesn't seem keen on talking about it. You play a couple board games too, which are a little difficult since Yondu can't read your language, but you both still have fun.

After that, you sit and talk for a while. You learn that Quill’s first name is Peter, and he’s Human – or, Terran, as Yondu calls it – and he tells you a little about him, including a bit about Ego, Kraglin, and the Guardians of the Galaxy. He asks you about certain things that Quill has mentioned; certain movies, foods, things like that, and you pull out your computer and bring them up on the internet to show him what they’re all about.

Yondu doesn’t go on about himself the whole time; he asks you about things you like to do, and you’re happy to share your hobbies with him – how you like to cook, dance, and star gaze. After an early dinner, you both sit next to each other on the couch, Yondu working on his arrow, and you catching up on Facebook and some emails. 

Yondu glances at you from time to time as you scroll through pictures and posts on your phone, and at one point he notices you straighten up. Your face has gone from reasonably content to perplexed, and suddenly you have that little crease between your brows - the one he’s learned that means you're not happy. "What the..." you mutter. You get to your feet. "I gotta make a call, quick,” you say, and walk into the kitchen. After a moment, he hears your voice. "Hey Tony, I - yeah, I'm good, thanks. You?...cool. Um...hey, listen...were you at the site with Devon today? Because he said-" There's a pause; Yondu can hear the slight murmur of someone on the other end of the phone, talking to you. "Oh," you say softly. "No, no - I - I'll give him a call. I must have misheard him. Thanks, Tony. Enjoy the rest of your day...thanks." You appear again, your face slightly pale, walking slow, your phone limp in your hand. Yondu watches you swallow, then your face hardens. You walk briskly to the garage door, grabbing your purse off the peg. "I’m going to Devon’s," you say, pulling on your coat. “I'll be back in a while.”

Yondu stands. "Be careful, darlin'."

The sentimental words surprise him, and you too, for you pause for a second to look at him, then give him a smile. “Thanks, I will."

He hears the outer garage door close, sees your car pull away through the slits in the window blinds. His gaze goes to the picture of you with Devon, and he picks it up, gripping so hard he threatens to crack the glass. He glares at the man's smiling face. "If y'hurt one hair on that girl's head, I swear to the gods there's nothing that'll stop me from killin' ya.”

\---

Yondu tries to work on his arrow while you’re gone, but he can’t concentrate. He tries watching TV, but that doesn’t help distract him either. He paces the room for a bit, then finally settles back down on the couch, impatiently tapping his arrow against his knee.

Soon – perhaps not soon enough – he hears the garage door open again. There's the slam of the car door, and the inner door opens just long enough for you to duck inside. You don't take your coat or purse off, but close the door as quickly as you can.

He spies your face just for a second. Tears are streaming down your cheeks. He sits up straight, arrow clenched in his fist. “Darlin’?”

You don’t answer, and run upstairs. He hears the slam of your bedroom door.

He’s told himself not to get involved with you, not to care for you too deeply because he’s going to have to leave sooner rather than later. You saved his skin, and he can care for you because he owes you one, but nothing more than that.

But an urge to go to you wells up in his chest as he hears your muffled sobs above him. The feeling is strong and persistent. It aches.

He deliberates on it for about three seconds, then gets to his feet, and as fast as he can without ripping his stitches, goes up the stairs. He opens your bedroom door quietly, not bothering to knock. He sees you're not on your bed, but slumped against the wall, face buried in your hands. Your shoulders are shaking violently.

He stiffens slightly; he’s never been great with crying women, but for you, he’s going to try. He takes a deep breath, but you don't notice he's there until he sinks into a sitting position beside you, pulling you into his arms.

With a snuffling gasp, you try to get away from him, pushing against him and beating fists against his chest. But he maintains his hold and trying to move him is like trying to move a stone wall, so you give in and fall into his embrace, burying your head against his shoulder and winding your arms around him.

He tightens his hold on you, running his hand across your back in long soothing strokes. You sit like that for several minutes, sobbing into his shirt, and he continues to hold you until your cries begin to quiet.

“What happened, sweetheart?” his voice, surprisingly soft, comes above your head.

You let out loud sniffle and raise your head. “I s-saw on Facebook that Tony had - he had the day off, and he always works with Devon – so I called him, and he said that he and Devon didn’t work today.” You pause to wipe the tears from your cheeks as new ones flow from your eyes. “S-so I knew something was up. I-I go to his house, and when-,” you choke, “When I open the door, there’s this other woman sitting on his lap!” Your voice breaks and you start crying again. “How could he _do_ this to me? Gosh, I’m - I’m such an idiot!”

“Hey now,” he says, pushing you away from him and tilting your face up towards his. “Don’t talk like that. The idiot here is that jackass boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. Ya did nothin’ wrong, darlin.”

You nod and drag your palms against your eyes, drying in vain to dry them. “I should have seen it coming – all the excuses, the missed dates! And he always made me feel like it was my fault! I’m glad I didn’t let that jerk move in with me. I should never have loaned him that rent money. That – that _ass!”_ Though you’re getting angrier, you’re starting to grow a little calmer; your breaths are finally returning to some semblance of a normal rhythm. You grab some tissues off your bedside table; just in time, because a thought strikes, and more tears start to flow. “He never really cared for me at all, did he? I never meant anything to him. I mean - I thought things were okay between us. I know I work a lot, and I'm busy, and I mean, I know I'm nothing to look at, but I never thought he'd cheat on me like this. I can't believe-"

"Whoa, whoa. What’d ya just say?" Yondu’s voice is almost angry, and you jump.

"What?" you ask, wiping your nose.

"What’d ya just say?" he repeats, staring at you hard.

"I-I work a lot-"

"No. Did ya jus' say y’ain’t nothin' to look at?"

"I- yeah, but-"

Without warning, he hauls you to your feet and marches you to the full-length mirror standing in the corner. He holds your shoulders and pulls you in front of him. "Look."

You avert your eyes from the image; your eyes are puffy, your face blotchy from crying, your hair a mess.

"No, no." He takes your chin gently in his hand and turns your face to the mirror again. "Lookit that face."

"I've been crying," you say, eyes still downcast.

"Don't matter," Yondu persists. "Look."

The hand still on your shoulder squeezes, and you look at the mirror. But your eyes go to his reflection, not yours. The way he's looking at you right now, with concern and admiration in his eyes, makes your heart jump a little.

"Lookit them beautiful eyes," he says, nodding at your image. "That hair and that body. Yer  _fine_. More than fine. I seen a lot a' pretty women all over the galaxy, and darlin'," he adds, turning your face to his, "I'd go so far as to say yer one a' the most beautiful. Not jus' your face, either. Don't get a lotta carin' or sweetness or patience like yers in my line a' work. So don't ya ever let me hear ya say that again. Ya are for sure  _somethin' to look at._ "

You let out a sniffy laugh at this, and smile up into his face. He smiles back, ghosting the backs of his fingers along the side of your face. "There it is, darlin'. Lookit you now," he says, turning you to the mirror again. "Lookit that smile. That's what he lost."

After a moment, he clears his throat and steps away from you, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"I'm going to change into my pajamas," you say, brushing the last of your tears away.

"Ok, I'll head on downstairs.”

"I'll see you in a few minutes. Watch a movie with me?"

"Whatever you want, sweetheart." He leaves the room and goes out into the hallway.

You remain in your room for a moment, then rush after him. "Yondu?"

He turns.

"I just wanted to say thanks - for breaking into my house," you say with a laugh.

He stares at you for a second in surprise, then chuckles.

"Seriously," you say, coming up to him. "I...I'm glad you're here, I’m glad we met each other."

He smiles. "Me too, baby."

\---

The next morning, Yondu finds you in the kitchen cooking breakfast. You don’t have any music on, and you stir the pan idly. Your shoulders are slumped; you look like you didn’t sleep well.

He didn’t either; he was trying to figure out some way he could locate and beat the ever-loving crap out of Devon, and do so without you knowing. But he knew that he would just get in trouble somehow, probably get picked up by the authorities, and never see you again, so he finally drifted off to sleep, unsatisfied. “Mornin’, darlin’,” he says.

You turn and give him a half-hearted smile.

“Ya okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just –” you bite your tongue and shake your head. “Nothing.” You turn back to the pan, stir a couple times, then put the spoon back down. You let out a long, shaky breath. “Before Devon, I dated a guy named Ritchie. He called me up in the middle of my work day, and just said 'hey babe, it's just not working out between us. I've been seeing someone else. ' And that was it. No apology or anything. Just…." Yondu's heart clenches as a tear escapes your eye and rolls down your cheek. You turn your face up to his. "Is there something wrong with me?"

In two strides Yondu is holding you against him, and he turns your face up towards his. "No darlin’," he says. "Ain't _nothin'_ wrong with ya. Those jackasses don't know what they gave up when they did ya wrong. They're gonna regret it for the rest of their lives. And you - yer gonna find yerself a man that treats ya right."

"Someone like you?" you ask, and you immediately snap your mouth shut, averting your eyes as you flush.

He goes still, then he reaches for your face, his thumb slowly caressing the tear from your cheek. He pulls you closer, and you hear his voice soft in your ear. "Yeah, baby, somebody like me."


	7. She'd Rather Be With Me

Your long work hours are exhausting, but the thought of going home to somebody makes it more bearable. In the depths of your heart you know that any day now, you’re going to come home and Yondu is not going to be there – his crew will have found him, and he’ll be gone. But you’re enjoying his company while it lasts.

You can’t help but be a little afraid of him, but he makes you feel safe, and that protective feeling that emanated from him a few days into his arrival only seemed to deepen after Devon cheated on you. He’s gentler these days, less gruff, and jokes more, teetering on the edge of flirting. But he never quite crosses that line, and neither do you when you’re teasing back.

Even though Devon was an ass, the reality of it is that it still hurt. Someone you trusted betrayed you, and the pain is still raw. It’s something that Yondu seems to understand, and you’re grateful.

\---

Yondu makes his way down the stairs with less pain than he’s felt in several days, and enters the living room to see you draped the length of the couch, an arm over your eyes. The day after Devon broke up with you, you had an overnight shift, and you’re still feeling the effects of it. The Ravager gazes down at you in sympathy – he’s rarely seen someone work so hard, and with everything else going on, he can tell you’re under a lot of stress.

You feel his weight shift the cushions, and mumble a quick “Sorry,” as you draw your legs up to make room for him. To your surprise, he catches one of your calves and pulls it back onto his lap. You want to look at him, see what he’s up to, but you’re so exhausted that you can’t bring yourself to move. You feel him take your other leg and do the same.

Though he runs a lot hotter than you do, his touch makes you shiver as he runs a calloused hand lightly over the top of one calf and onto your foot. He begins to knead the ball of your foot with his thumbs, massaging out all the little knots you didn’t know you’d accumulated through the week.

You sigh as he works at your feet. Though his hands are rough, his touch is much gentler than you ever would have anticipated. He smooths out a particularly stubborn spot, and you aren’t in time to bite back a small moan of satisfaction.

“Feel good, sweetheart?”

You remove the arm from your eyes to discover that he’s probably been watching you this entire time.

His eyes have a slight glazed look to them, his pupils dilated a little more than they should be in this light. For what seems like minutes, you just stare at one another. Yondu lightly trails his fingers back and forth along your calf, shifting your pant leg up, with each pass reaching just a little higher up your leg until he’s nearly reached your thigh.

“Y-Yeah,” you say at last. “Thanks.” You draw your legs back up, but slowly because you don’t want to offend him – and part of you doesn’t want him to stop.

Yondu fights the urge to grab you back towards him. Your skin is so soft and cool beneath his fingers. His heart rate is elevated, his breathing slightly shallow, and he knows it. He's never touched you like that before; never dared, and you _let_ him. And that moan. He clenches a hand to fight the shiver that threatens to wrack his body. Instead, he concentrates on your face, and he finds himself distressed to see that your eyes have bags under them. "Yer workin' too hard, darlin'," he says. "Ya need a break."

You run your hands over your face and sigh deeply. "Yeah, I know."

\---

Now that Devon is out of the picture, little things that had escaped Yondu’s notice before now capture his attention. Physical things. The curve of your lips as you smile at him, the way your smile reaches your eyes and makes them sparkle. The soft touch of your hand as you pat his shoulder, or better yet, the delicate feel of your fingers as you touch his side to check on his wound. The mere anticipation of your touch causes him to tense, to shiver, to grow warm in ways he can’t deny.

He'd called you beautiful the night Devon broke up with you, and the words had only meant to comfort you; he hadn’t really thought it was true. But now that he’s noticing all these little things and the effect they have on him, he knows he was just lying to himself. You _are_ one of the most gorgeous women he’s ever seen, and it’s starting to become difficult being around you. He tries to psych himself up during the day when you’re gone, prepare himself to ignore you when you come home, but it’s always in vain. He has to be careful, because you’ve almost caught him staring at you on a few occasions. He tries to be discreet, but it's difficult for him not to stare at your chest when you're bending over to place food before him, especially when you're wearing one of those soft low-necked shirts you like. And one day, you wear these tight leggings that hug your frame, and when you bend over, it takes every ounce of self-control not to reach out and grab a handful of what he considers to be a damn fine ass.

Yes, if he’s honest he’s noticed you for a while, and now it’s becoming unbearable. One of these days he’s going to snap like a taut wire.

Unbeknownst to the Ravager Captain, you’ve started taking notice of him in return.  It’s hard not to, with him around all the time. You find yourself tracing the line of his jaw with your eyes as he reclines on the couch, or the bulge of his bicep when he helps you open a jar once. Your gaze is often drawn to his hands – they’re so big and so strong that you find yourself searching for a excuse for him to hold you, but are never able to come up with one. You like his eyes most, the way they fluctuate between light and dark shades of red depending on his mood, sometimes so intense that they could bore a hole in your soul, and yet able to be so soft that you wonder why you ever thought anything could trouble you.

The first inkling you get to any kind of feeling towards him is when you're checking his wound a couple days after the breakup. He lifts his shirt, and it's no different than any other time, but as you inspect the site, your eyes travel over his body. He's muscular, that functional muscle that you prefer in men instead of that body-builder physique. You have a sudden urge to run your hands over his chest, to feel his pectorals, run your fingers over the scars, and you bite your lip as heat floods your face. Your eyes trail upwards, to his chin, his lips. "Looks good," you say, forcing your eyes back down to his side. "Should be able to get those stitches out."

 

Your words are quicker, a little higher pitched than normal, and you pray Yondu doesn't notice, but he does. He spies your red face as you turn away, and he wants to grab your arm, yank you back towards him, trap you against his chest, hold you to feel your heart beat against his skin. He wants to trail his fingers through your hair, wants to run his hands over your firm, cool little body. He takes a half step after you, even raises his hand slightly, but then reality sets in like a slap to the face, and he forces himself to sit again.

\----

The morning after this, Yondu wakes to find you’ve already gone. You had an early shift at the hospital. He gets a cup of coffee from the pot you made before you left, grabs an apple and the peanut butter and is about to start on his arrow again when he hears the garage door opening.

He pushes the tray back and gets to his feet. A moment later, you come in the door, your arms laden with grocery bags. He grabs half from you. “Darlin’? Ya okay? Whatcha doin’ home already?” He ends with a frustrated grunt in his throat, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at himself. _Ya sound like a damn wuss, fussin’ like that._

To his relief, you grin up at him. You put down the rest of the bags and hug him briefly. “I’m taking a vacation!”

“Wassat?”

“I haven’t taken a vacation in _forever_. I spoke with my supervisor this morning, told her what happened, and she told me to take the rest of the day off, and shifted everything around so I could take off next week too.”

He hooks his thumbs in his belt loops. “Whatcha gonna do with all that time to yerself?”

“I’m going up to my family’s cabin. It’s a few hours away, on a lake. And-” you grow quiet, a slight blush creeping up to your cheeks. “I was hoping you would come with me.”

“Well I can’t stay here,” he laughs, “I’d starve. And,” he adds, “It’d be pretty borin’ without ya ‘round, darlin’.”

“Great!” you smile. “Well why don’t you pack up whatever you want to bring – probably everything you have, in case your crew comes to get you while we’re up there – and I’ll start packing some clothes.” With another hug, you bound upstairs.

Yondu chuckles after you, and starts to box up all the parts and tools he’s been using to fix his arrow.

“Oh!” your voice comes floating back down the stairs. “I was going to take your stitches out last night, and I totally forgot. Come on up and let’s do that, spaceman.”

He meets you in the bathroom, and a small shiver runs through his body at your touch.

"Sorry, did I tickle you?"

"A little," he lies.

You disinfect the site with alcohol, then snip the stitches and pull the threads through, covering it with a large bandage when you're through. "Can't believe you healed that quick, honestly. A Human – a _Terran,_ ” you say with a smile, “Would probably have those stitches for another week." You get up, sterilize the tools with alcohol, then leave them to dry on a clean towel. You squeeze his shoulder as you make your way out the door.

He catches your hand in his, just briefly. "Thanks for everything, doll. I mean it."

You smile, and before you realize what you’re doing, you’re leaning up towards him. You almost kiss his cheek, but stop yourself at the last second and instead pull him into a hug, leaning your head against his. As you pull back, your face feels like it caught on fire. "I uh - gonna - gonna pack." You hurry towards your bedroom.

As you pack, you feel like a swarm of butterflies has blossomed in your chest. A whole week alone with Yondu. You have the feeling that something is going to happen between the two of you, but you can't guess at what. Shaking your head at yourself, you stuff clothes into a large duffel bag, leaving room for toiletries. As you reach for another pair of socks, you spy a picture of your family on your dresser, along with the medal your brother was awarded posthumously for his bravery. You’re not exactly sure why, but you grab them and pack them too.

A couple of hours later, after a quick lunch, you're ready to start packing the car. You lug the cooler up the stairs and pack it with ice and some of the stuff you got at the grocery store - whatever you might not be able to find at the local shops up there. 

"Hey Yondu?" you call up the stairs, and you hear him coming down, a box in his hands.

"Whatcha need, darlin'?"

"Can you help me lift this into the car? It's too heavy by myself."

"Shove over, sweetheart. I got it."

"Watch your side."

"Yeah yeah, I'm not a child." He leans, picks up and to your relief, lifts with his legs not his back. Being a smuggler, he's probably lifted ten times as many boxes you have your entire life.

As he lifts the cooler, you can't help but gape. You knew he was strong, but he lifts it like it's a piece of paper. A blush creeps into your cheeks as you stare at his back muscles rippling through the fabric of his t-shirt. It only deepens when you realize that if he had wanted, he could have taken advantage of you at any time, and there was nothing you could possibly have done to stop him. But he hasn't. Other than that very first night, he has not raised a finger against you; he’s been gentle and tender in all of his interactions with you.

You blink yourself out of your thoughts, and find that he's turned around, and you're staring at him. 

"Whatcha lookin' at, baby?" he asks with a wink.

You blush deeper. "N-nothing!" You scurry into the kitchen.

Once the car is just about packed, Yondu rests his hand on the doorknob leading to the garage. He runs through everything he owns in his head, making sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. _Nope, all in that car a’ hers._ He goes to open the door, when he hears raised voices from the garage. He opens it cautiously, peeking through the opening.

You're yelling at a man who's standing with his back to him.

A small, skinny man. 

_Devon._

“Look, I know you’re angry. But I can explain-” he’s saying.

“Explain what?” you snap. “You-” You break off as Yondu catches your eyes, opening the door wide.

He sees your mouth part in a gasp, but you're too slow to stop him. Before you can say one syllable, he's crossed the floor and gathered a handful of Devon's collar. He yanks him back so violently that he drags him off his feet, before balling his fist and plunging it into the boy's stomach. The impact is so severe that Devon doesn't even have breath left to cry out. There's just a sort of gagging noise as he crumples to the ground. 

Yondu’s about to kick him in the teeth when you appear in his line of vision, pushing him backwards with your hands on his chest. "Stop, stop. Get in the car."

He barely registers your words; his eyes are still on the wheezing form of your ex-boyfriend. One punch isn't enough to make him pay for the way he treated you. But then your hands are on his face, fingers trailing against his beard, and his gaze snaps to yours. Your beautiful eyes capture him, make him freeze. "Get in the car, please."

He takes a breath, wills himself to relax, and nods. He gets in the car, slams the door, and peers through the tinted windows at the two of you. He's pleased to see that you just stand by, and don't give into your doctor's instincts to help Devon to his feet. The boy does get up at last, and he's shaking, head whipping in all directions. "Who the hell was that?" Yondu hears him gasp, holding his stomach. He looks like he's going to throw up.

"A friend of mine. He was pretty pissed about what you did to me."

"Come on, like you never thought about-"

"Don't try to turn this on me, you jackass! _You_ used _me!_ _You_ cheated on _me!_ And you're trespassing on my property. If you don't get your ass out of here in the next thirty seconds I am calling the police!" 

"[y/n], come on. I didn't mean to-"

Your voice goes up two octaves. "You didn't mean-! Oh, oh, so you  _accidentally_  let this girl sit on your lap? You  _accidentally_  kissed her? Don't give me that bullshit. Get out of here." You whip out your phone, but Devon's still not leaving.

You’re about to dial the police when you see Yondu open his door, and a hear a heavy thunk as he puts one boot back down on the pavement.

Devon's head snaps in his direction. 

"Ya better git, boy," he growls, and for once you don't feel that fuzzy tinge to his words as they're translated through the chip in your head - he's actually speaking your language.

Devon's eyes bulge. "Shit,” he whispers. Then he nearly screams. “Shit! Screw this!" he cries, and turning his back on you, bolts for his car. Without a backward glance, he speeds away. 

Yondu watches you go back inside quickly, and he wonders if he should follow, hoping you're okay. Just as he's about to get out of the car, you return. You place one last box in the trunk, lock up the house, and slide into the driver's seat. He closes his door, and you start the car up. You sit there, hands clenched on the steering wheel, and you glance his way. You have that angry line between your brows.

He frowns and crosses his arms, looking ahead out through the windshield. "Ain't gonna apologize for hittin' him. Sonuvabitch had it comin'."

You don't answer, but a moment later he feels your lips press against his cheek in a swift kiss. In utter surprise, he turns to look at you, but your eyes are downcast, your cheeks rosy.

You busy yourself with your seatbelt. "Buckle up, spaceman. This car isn't moving until you're strapped in."

He feels heat searing his cheeks as his lips pull back in a grin. He yanks the belt down into place with an emphatic  _click_.

Your eyes finally meet his and you smile. "We're gonna have fun."

"Hell yeah, darlin’."


	8. Life is a Highway

As you pull away from the house, a strange sense of closure falls over you, the same sense you had when you packed a picture of your family and your brother's medal. Like you're not coming home again.  _That's ridiculous. Get a hold of yourself._  

By the time you get on the road in earnest, it’s starting to get dark. It's a long, three and half hour drive to the cabin (plus a fast food drive through for dinner, a stop at the gas station to fill up, and a bathroom break off the side of the road for Yondu), but time passes quickly as you listen to music and talk.

"So, what did you do before you were a Ravager?" you ask a little while into your drive, turning down the music. He doesn't answer immediately, which is unusual for him. He usually answers your questions right away. You glance at him. He sits a little lower in his seat, hand clenched on the arm rest. "I’m sorry,” you say quickly. “You don't have to-”

"I was a battle slave under the Kree," he says in a growl.

You stare at him, stomping on the brakes as you come to a stop light. "A slave? Oh my god, Yondu." Your hand darts out for his, and grasps it tightly. 

He looks at your hand, not wanting to meet your eyes. "I was a slave for 20 years, fighting in the Kree's wars and arenas," he continues quietly, "Until Stakar Ogord found me, broke my chains. He took me into his Clan, made me a Ravager. Gave me freedom."

"20 years?" you ask, your voice hushed. "How long have you been a Ravager?"

"About thirty-five some years."

"So you...oh Yondu. You were just a child when...?"

His eyes glaze over a little, and a shiver trembles through him at some memory. "Yeah."

"I'm so sorry," you say, squeezing his hand. "I'm so sorry Yondu." There's the angry beep of a horn behind you, and you realize the light has turned. Your car lurches forward and you make your way on to the highway. 

"It's all right," he says after a few minutes of silence. "Way I figure, I wouldn't be me without being that slave first. Mighta been a better person otherwise, but who knows? Mighta been worse." He lets out a soft laugh. "Well one thing's fer sure. If I wasn't me, I might not a' met you, sweetheart. And that'd sure be a loss."

"Aww." Your voice comes out in a gentle murmur, and you reach for his hand again. He takes and holds it. He loves the soft, cool feeling against his hot rough hands. He smooths a thumb lightly back and forth over your skin. You don't draw it back, so he keeps it held in his.

You feel a tingle spread throughout your body at his touch, and swallow. "I've - I've never heard you mention Stakar before. Who is he?"

"He's the leader of the One Hundred Clans. He was my captain for several years before I got my own ship and crew. We...we had a fallin' out awhile back. But things are on the mend now."

You glance at him, watching as the street lamps whisk past his face, lighting it up and then plunging it back into shadow. He looks thoughtful, and a little sad. "Yondu, I've had the feeling for a while that something happened to you, recently. What was it?"

At this, he lets go of your hand, so you bring it back to the steering wheel. It's several moments before he answers. "Ya remember I told ya that Ego is Quill's real father? And that he was dangerous?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he found Quill. It was a whole mess that I don't gotta go into right now, but Quill got into trouble big time, and I had to go help him. Long story short, the planet - Ego - was blowin' up-"

"Ego was the planet? I thought you said he was Quill's father."

"He is Quill's father, but he's the planet too. It's - it's complicated, I still don't quite understand how that worked. But that ain't the point. Point is, the planet was blowin' up and we only had one aero rig and one space suit, so I gave the suit to Quill."

You grow still, hands clenching the wheel. "Wait. Wait - if – if there was only one suit, how did you survive?"

"I didn't."

Your heart drops into your stomach. "What? What are you saying? Are you saying you died?" 

"Fer a short time, yeah. They didn't think they were gonna be able to save me. I was nearly frozen through. Took weeks to fully recover. I think some of me is still gettin’ over it." 

Without warning, you bring the car to a halt, pulling over on the side of the highway. You unbuckle your seat belt and lean over the center console to pull him into your arms. He gasps as you bury your face in his shoulder. "Yondu," you whisper, your voice hoarse.

He leans his head against yours, breathing in the scent of your hair. His arm winds around your back to pat your shoulder. "It's okay, baby. I'm fine." When you pull back, there are tears in your eyes. "Aw shit honey," he says, taking your face in his hands. "I'm okay, honest. Took a while to get better, but as y'can see, I'm all in one piece. And my boy is alive, which is the most important thing."

You rest a hand on the side of his face, rubbing your thumb against his beard for a moment. "You're a good dad."

He chuckles softly, hangs his head. "I'm tryin', now. Didn't do much right in them early days. But that brush with death...that kinda kicked my ass in gear. I'm tryin' to do right by my boy, and right by my crew. I treated them like shit. But I'm building a new crew and tryin' to do better by them. Thank gods I got Kraglin still."

As you steer your car back onto the highway, you raise an eyebrow. "A new crew? What happened to the crew you had?"

He rubs the back of his neck. "Kraglin accidentally started a mutiny."

"Whoa, what?"

"Weren't his fault. It's a long story."

"Well, it's a long drive."

\----

Yondu's worried that you'll be afraid of him for killing his crew, but you seem to understand, and you seem saddened by the loss of the crew loyal to him. He’s been so busy recovering and building a new ship and crew that he hasn't spent much time processing it, and he's quiet for a long time after telling you the story, while you listen to music.

Tullk especially weighs heavy on his heart - he can still hear his cries for help. Yes, he was incapacitated while his loyal crew were being chucked out the airlock, only half conscious with pain and disoriented by the brain spasms and echoes caused by his demolished implant, but if he had really given a damn, if he hadn't been such a miserable piece of shit, he could have done something.

But he knows in his heart that’s not true. There's nothing he could have done. There were too many to fight off. And if he had been stupid and tried something, Kraglin would have probably stepped in to defend him, and Taserface would have thrown both him and the First Mate out of the airlock. And he couldn't let anything happen to Kraglin. He'd give up his crew and more to keep that boy safe. His thoughts drift from Kraglin to Quill, to the Guardians and Stakar, and everything that's happened in the last few months. He hears you turn the music up a bit, and smiles as you start to hum along. Your voice is comforting, and it causes him to shift back cozily in the seat. Before long, his eyes start to droop. The lights on the highway start to drift together in streams, everything darkens.

\----

Yondu's woken by a jostling sensation, and sits upright. He looks over at you.

"Sorry," you say softly, glancing at him. "Dirt road. I was hoping it wouldn't wake you, but it's pretty bumpy."

He stretches, kneading his fists into his lower back. "How long I been out?"

"Oh, forty minutes or so. We're just about there."

Yondu looks out the window. It's dark, he can barely see anything. Street lamps are few and far in between. From time to time there's a house with a porch light on, but it's mostly trees, and an occasional sliver of moonlight catching water in the distance. You slow down as you turn down another dirt road, and then another immediately after. "Home stretch," you say with an excited smile at him. "This is the drive up to the cabin."

It's a long, winding road lined with pine trees, and after a few minutes on it, you pull up to a wide parking place. A dark structure is silhouetted against the rest of the darkness before you.

You put the car in park and sigh happily. "Here we are, one my favorite places in the whole world." You leave Yondu in the car as you turn on lights inside. As the windows of the cabin are illuminated, Yondu sees a large wooden structure with a wraparound porch connected to a deck, and stairs leading down to a black expanse that from what he can hear out the open car window, sounds like a lake.

As he helps bring things inside, he sees that the front door opens to a wide foyer leading right into the kitchen. Beyond that is the living room, and against the far wall is a wrapping stairway that leads to the second floor. Also on the far wall is a sliding door, and Yondu can see the deck beyond it. The structure is made of wood and stone; everything smells like old fire smoke and coffee. It's an oddly comforting smell that Yondu immediately likes.

You appear, turning out of the kitchen. "You can bring those in here." As he traverses the space between you, he spies several framed pictures hung on the wall. Some of them are very old, the colors faded into washed out tones. But he spies a small girl in several of the frames that must be you - your smile is the same. He stops at one of you as a younger woman, standing on the dock between your brother and father.

"That was the last time all three of us were together," you say, following his gaze.

Yondu shifts the bags to one hand and loops an arm around your shoulder, pulling you against him. "I'm sure they're real proud a' ya, sweetheart."

You smile up and him, giving him a squeeze with one arm. "Come on and put those down in the kitchen, then you can pick out your room."

The stairway splits into two when it reaches the second floor, a few steps going into two wings of rooms. Each wing contains a couple rooms full of bunk beds, and two rooms with a single queen-size bed each. He chooses one of the single beds in one wing, you choose the same in the other wing.

As he unpacks his things, he has mixed feelings about you being in the other wing - it's less temptation on one hand, and on the other, he regrets that he can't just slip next door to see you. He could change rooms, but he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, not in a place like this that means so much to you.

In your own room, you get into your pajamas. You haven't felt this happy in a long time. It's been over a year since you've taken a vacation, and being here, with someone you enjoy, is causing all of the stress to just melt away. You smile, thinking of Yondu sleeping in the car. His face was so relaxed, you had to fight the urge to run a finger along the silver stubble on his cheek. You blush at the thought.

Everything is unpacked, and you're about to turn out the light, but you hesitate. You want to make sure that Yondu is all set, and you want to say goodnight.

You pad down the wooden stairs from your wing and up again to the few stairs to his wing, and pause in his open doorway. He's only in boxers and a t-shirt, his back to you. You bite your lip as he bends over, putting something on his bedside table - you can't deny that he has a really nice ass. The muscles in his legs and arms are captivating as they ripple beneath his blue skin. You clear your throat, and knock on his door frame, reminding yourself why you're here in the first place.

Yondu turns to see you in the doorway, dressed in long, loose pajama pants and a soft t-shirt. He has to actively keep his eyes on your face, because your shirt is on the thin side and he can see the outline of your breasts if you lean a certain way. Damn, it'd be so easy. It'd be so easy to just pull you off your feet and swing you over into his bed, climb atop you and.... Heat flushes his cheeks. This is going to be a dangerous week.

"You okay?"

He realizes he's been staring at you, and coughs a little, turning his arrow in his fingers. "Yeah. Jus' lost in m'thoughts. How ya doin', baby?"

"Great. Sleepy. I just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed before I went to bed."

 _Not quite._  "Yeah, I'm good, darlin'."

"You know there's a door from here into the bathroom," you say, pointing.

"Yep, saw that."

"Okay.” You smile. “Goodnight then. I’ll see you in the morning, spaceman."

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he replies softly, but you still linger in the doorway, leaning in and then out slightly. He makes the decision for you, and crossing the room, gathers you into his arms, pulling your head into the crook of his shoulder. "Sweet dreams, baby," he murmurs in your ear.

You hold onto him, shivering at his soft, husky voice. "Sweet dreams, Yondu," you whisper back.

\----

When Yondu wakes, there's a soft pink glow coming in the windows above his bed. He pulls on a pair of pants and a t-shirt and goes down the stairs to the smell of coffee. As he turns into the kitchen to get some, he's greeted with a view of the lake he couldn't see last night. It's a dusky blue, the waves streaked with gold as the sun rises. Through the windows, he sees you leaning on the railing of the deck, a cup of coffee in your hand. Your hair is pulled back in a messy braid, you're dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. But the wistful look in your eyes, tinged with the light coming over the trees, the soft smile on your lips and the rosy hue of your cheeks stops Yondu in his tracks.

Somewhere in the depths of his heart, something stirs, sparks. The small flame of something kindled in desire, but warmer. Fuller.

Swallowing, he grabs a cup of coffee and quietly approaches you. Tentatively, he slides an arm around your back, keeping the embrace light in case you don't want it. But you turn your face to him and let out a small laugh, and wind your arm around his waist, leaning against his sturdy frame. "Good morning," you say.

"'Morning, sweetheart."

"What do you think?" you ask, nodding out at the lake. "Pretty, huh?"

"Beautiful," he replies, but you don't see that he's staring at you. 


	9. Nightswimming

Yondu walks out the deck door, and is greeted by crisp night air and the sounds of animals he doesn’t recognize – quiet chirpings and croaks. There’s a soft breeze blowing that sends ripples across the water. He takes a deep breath of fresh air; it’s calm and peaceful, so different than his constant brushes with death and danger as a Ravager. He hears a faint string of music carried to him on the wind, and looking around sees you down below, seated in the middle of the dock out on the lake. You’re just sitting there, looking up. The little speaker you brought with you is tucked safely away from the edge of the water.

He makes his way down the stairs and onto the beach, sighing at the soft, cold sand in his toes. This far down from the house, he realizes how dark it is, and he follows your gaze upward. The galaxy streams like a river of diamonds above him, twinkling. Every so often, he sees a meteor streak across the sky, burning bright for a fleeting moment.

You hear the creak of footfalls on the dock, and turn to smile up at him. “Hey.”

“Hi darlin’,” he says, sitting with a grunt beside you. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Star gazing,” you reply. “Probably pretty boring to a space captain. You’ve seen things more beautiful I’ll bet.”

Your gaze is fixed on the stars, so you don’t see his eyes linger on you. “Sure have.” Then he swallows and looks up. “But this ain’t bad.”

You sit in silence for a while, watching the stars above. Warmth radiates off Yondu, a pleasant reprieve from the chilly air. You glance at him from time to time, and notice that his hand is close to yours where it rests on the dock. You want to place your hand over his, just to express the gratitude have for him being here with you, but hand-holding might imply something a little more intimate, so you don’t, but you still feel a twinge of regret.

The speaker behind you ends its current song and begins to play “Sara Smile” by Hall and Oates. You hum, closing your eyes as you sway back and forth slightly. “This is one of my favorite songs.”

Yondu watches you. He’s seen you dance in the kitchen while making dinner, or that one time in your room doing laundry. A smile comes to his lips at the thought. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s placed his hand over yours. “Dance with me.”

“What?”

He stands, pulling you to your feet. “Dance with me,” he repeats, resting a hand lightly at your waist.

You blush furiously, but you can’t keep a beaming smile from your face as you place one hand in his and your other on his shoulder. He guides you in small circles and turns along the dock, leading you with the gentlest presses of his fingers. For such a large, rough and tumble man, he’s surprisingly light and graceful on his feet.

“You’re a good dancer,” you say.

“Surprised?” he asks with a smirk, dipping you.

“Honestly? Yes. You don’t seem like the dancing type.” The wind picks up slightly, and you move closer to him. You feel him draw you in, and your chest brushes against his. You blush even deeper. “S-so Yondu?” you ask.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“What brought you here in the first place? To Terra, I mean?”

He chuckles softly, letting go of your hand to rub the back of his neck. “We was kinda headed in this general direction, and thought I’d swing by…thought mebbe I could find some a’ those things Quill always used to talk about…or mebbe find a picture of his Momma or somethin’. I dunno. Was feelin’ sentimental after all that crap happened. I didn’t really have a plan.” He shakes his head at himself. “Went off by myself, without tellin’ anyone where I was headed…was lookin’ fer time alone with m’thoughts too, I guess. Talk about stupid. Got thrown off course by some kinda other vessel – or mebbe it was a comet or somethin’. Spiraled outta control, and….” He cocks his head.

“And here you are.”

“Here I am,” he grins.

“That’s sweet. I’m sorry that you crashed though.”

He catches your eyes. “I ain’t,” he says, with a small smirk. He leans in towards you. Your breath catches, your heart pattering in your chest.

The song on the speaker ends, giving way to something loud and drum-heavy.

Yondu’s eyes grow wide and he swiftly pulls back, letting go of you.

You clear your throat and bend to turn the volume down. When you straighten back up, he’s looking out at the water and he’s got a huge grin on his face. “I think it’s time we had some fun.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Before you can stop him, he’s off running down the dock at top speed.

“What are you _doing?_ ” you cry, but are cut off as he leaps off the end of the dock. He plunges into the water, spraying you with the splash.

A moment later, his head appears and he spits out water. "Woo!" he laughs, shaking water off his face. "C'mon in, girl!"

You laugh in disbelief, shaking your head. "No way! It's too cold for that!"

"Naw, it's refreshing!" He gestures towards himself. "C'mon!" He grins at you.

The grin is infectious. You bite your lip, trying not to encourage him, but your efforts are in vain, and a laugh bubbles up from your throat.

He moves his arms in broad strokes so that he’s nearer to the dock. "C'mon,” he urges you. “Ya know ya wanna!"

You laugh again, and slowly walk along the dock. "Okay, okay," you say, taking off your shoes and socks. "But I'm not staying in long, it's too cold."

"I'll keep ya warm, darlin'," he says cheekily, winking at you.

"You're impossible!" You roll your eyes, but your lips curve upwards.

"C'mon!"

You take off your sweatshirt so you're just in a tank top - no use more fabric weighing you down than necessary. You take a deep breath, and run along the dock. You squeeze your eyes shut as you jump. When you come back up to the surface you let out a shriek. "It's  _freezing!"_

You cling to the dock, shivering, as Yondu swims over to you. He peels your hands off the dock and pulls you out into the water. "Y-Y-You jerk," you laugh. "If I get sick it's your f-fault."

He laughs in response, letting go of your hands and swimming backwards.

You feel something brush up against your leg in the water and shriek again. You instinctively dive towards Yondu, staring back into the dark water. “Oh geez!”

He catches you in his arms and pulls you close, steering you behind him as he peers down. "What? What is it?"

You laugh, smoothing fingers over your wet hair as you look down in the water. "J-Just some seaweed or a fish or something." You realize how close you are to him - your faces are just inches apart - and you blush. "Sorry."

He smiles down at you gently, and doesn't let go. If anything, he readjusts his arms so you're closer against him. "Shit, darlin'. Ya really are freezin'. I forget you Terrans get cold so easy." As he begins to rub your arms, you hug him. He pulls you as close as you can get, and he bites his lip as he feels your breasts press against his chest. In one motion, he lifts you, hooking his arm under your legs. "C'mon baby, let's get you warm." He swims to shore, then walks you up to the deck. He doesn't put you down even then, and carries you all the way up to the cabin.

\----

Yondu sits in front of the fireplace, dry and in a fresh pair of sweatpants and a white wife beater. Popcorn and a movie is on the agenda for the rest of the night; he’s just waiting for you to finish changing.

He closes his eyes, suppressing a shiver of desire. The image of you in with those wet clothes clinging to your body isn’t an easy one to forget. His eyes raise to the ceiling above him. You’re changing in your room right now, peeling that wet shirt from your body, lifting it over your head. Your hair is probably out of its ponytail for once, sticking to your neck and bare chest. _Damn, should’a offered to help her._ The thought comes with a lustful smile.

He bites the inside of his cheek hard, forcing himself out of that train of thought. _Yer an old Ravager. She’d never want someone like you. Yer probably old enough to be her father._ The thought is sobering. _She’s such a beautiful young thing; she deserves someone better, someone younger. Don’t even entertain the thought that ya have a chance._

“Hey spaceman,” he hears you say, and turns on the couch. You’re holding a couple of movies in your hand. You toss them in his lap. “Take your pick. I’ll go make some popcorn.” He turns the cases over in his hands, looking but not really seeing them.

He hears you return, just for a moment, and feels your lips against brush against his temple. “I forgot to thank you for the dance.”

He smiles after your retreating form. _A man can dream._


	10. Lightnin' Strikes

You left the music on in the kitchen while you’re upstairs taking a shower, and Yondu finds himself listening.

... _I've had my share of losers, liars and users, looking for a heart to break - so if you're like that well, take a step back …. If you're gonna hold me, hold me like I'm leaving, if you're gonna kiss me, kiss me like you need it, baby if you're not you best get to leavin'...if you're gonna love me, love me like you mean it...._

_Did you put this song on for me?_  he wonders. He sits back, turning his arrow in his fingers. He thinks about all the women he's had one-night stands with. He can probably count on one hand the women that he's been with more than once over the years. Through all these thoughts, your face keeps slipping into his mind, overshadowing all the others. He can't imagine treating you that way. But why? He rubs a hand over his face.

He's never been alone with someone for such an extended period of time - in prison cells, there's the other inmates, the guards. On board his ship _,_ there's no privacy except in his cabin. When visiting bars, brothels, or suppliers, he's always with his crew. Even when he was with the Kree, there were other slaves. He's never been one-on-one with...hell,  _anybody_  before. And you're different. You  _care_ about him. Sure, Kraglin cares. Quill cares. Even the Twig and Rocket, and the other Guardians probably care some for him. And the crew he has right now is loyal for the right reasons. But the way you care is so different. You care about him not out of some long-standing loyalty or kinship, or fear...you found him bleeding out in your kitchen and decided to save him. He figures any other Terran would have called in soldiers or something. But not you. Despite all he's told you, that he's a Ravager - a smuggler, a thief, a criminal and a killer - you've not treated him any differently. You trust him. It still confuses him why that is. You expect nothing from him, and have given him everything. You've healed him, fed and clothed him, given him a place to sleep. Like you would treat another Terran. More than that. Like you would treat a friend...and yet, more than  _that._

His heart swells at the thought of your smile. He remembers the feeling of you in his arms in the lake last night. Dancing with him. Sitting by him on the couch. Your eyes, your laugh. A sudden thought hits him like a crashing ship.

He might be falling in love with you.

He almost yells as you touch his shoulder; he rockets out of his seat and whirls to face you.

"Whoa!" you laugh, holding up your hands and taking a step back. "Sorry. I was calling you, but you didn't hear me. Lost in your thoughts?" You smile warmly up at him, and his heart beats faster.

"Y-Yeah."

"It's a perfect day for a picnic, did you want to go?"

"Sure, sweetheart.”

You eye Yondu as he helps pack things into the small cooler; he’s been acting a little strange on this trip. Not bad-strange, but like something is causing him some weird sort of anxiety. You smile as he grabs a blanket from the closet, just watching the way he moves and remembering how gentle he was as he danced with you last night. When he took your hand, and when he held you in the lake, you had a rush of emotion that you haven’t felt in a long time. That warm, tingly, butterflies-in-your-stomach type feeling, but stronger. As he carried you up to the cabin, his eyes locked on yours, you’d felt safer than you ever had before. And happier.

You didn’t realize until now how unhappy you were with Devon. How unhappy you were _before_ Devon. For years you’ve been trying to convince yourself that you exhaust yourself at the hospital in order to help people, when you really doing so to bury the sadness and loneliness you’ve felt since your father and brother died. But no matter how hard you work, it’s a hole that never been filled. And Devon made that hole deeper, somehow. He didn’t fill it up; not like Yondu.

You like him. He makes you laugh, he respects you, he’s fun, and he cares about you. You recall his interaction with Devon, and smirk. 

“What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking of you punching Devon.”

He grins that shark smile. “That was damn satisfying,” he says, throwing the blanket to you.

“For both of us.” You stuff the blanket, some paper plates and cups into a large bag, and swing it over your shoulder. You hand Yondu the small cooler, and you head off down the dock and along the beach.

It’s a fair walk to the picnic spot, but it’s worth it when you get there. The water is shallow, quietly lapping up against a shady bit of beach under a grove of willow trees.

You talk with each other as you eat, talking about doctor and Ravager life, your respective family and friends, the past and the future. As you listen to Yondu relate a story about Peter when he was young, you watch him, and feel that warm butterfly feeling. You love the way his eyes twinkle when talking about when Kraglin and Peter were just boys, or the trouble he used to get into when first under Stakar. You love his soft smiles and goofy grins. You love the little glances he steals at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

This last thought makes you pause, and you stare at him, not entirely hearing his words as he relates his story. _Does he like me, the way I like him?_ You find yourself blushing, and take a sip of the soda pop you brought with you. _This isn’t high-school, stop acting like a teenager._

After a while, you’re both just content to sit, listening to the lake as you munch on some snacks. Then you see him eyeing you. He shifts closer, and you turn to him. You laugh, a little nervously, as he reaches for you. "What are you...?"

His voice lowers to a murmur and his ruby eyes lock on you. "Jus’...." He cradles the back of your head, and your breath catches.  _Is he going to try and kiss me?_  The thought catches you off guard, and you feel your heart triple its pace.

But he doesn't. His other hand goes behind you too, and you feel him loosen your ponytail, then pull the band out. Your hair falls around your shoulders and catches in the wind, swirling around your face.

"I...I just wanted t'see it down," he says tentatively, and you see there's a purplish blush across his cheeks. "Y'always have it up."

 You laugh, all of your nervousness gone, and you sweep your hair to one side. "What do you think?"

He gives you a sly smile. "I think you should wear it down more."

"Well maybe I will. But not right now, it's too windy." You hold out your hand for your hairband, and he places it in your palm. You think his hand lingers against yours for a second longer than necessary, but it's probably just your imagination.

_Am I really fallin’ for ya, girl?_  Yondu wonders, watching you. He feels a bolt of heat in his lower belly, and he digs his nails into his palms to quench the sensation.

Decades of bondage under the Kree hardened his heart to sentiment and the kinder emotions, he’s the first to admit it. Stakar, and Kraglin and Quill chipped at that stone casement over the years, and now it’s crumbling all due to your gentle influences. He's finding that he's telling you everything. He's been so,  _so_  careful with what he's divulged and with who, but you're so patient and so intent on him when he talks. You listen and are interested in what he has to say, not because you have a mission that depends on it, not because you owe it to him out of fear or debt.

With more difficulty, he offers you the same courtesy. He's used to dominating conversations and not caring what anyone else has to say, but he's been feeling since the mutiny that that's something he really has to change, and has been making a conscious effort to do so. It’s usually not simple. He has to be actively listening, and actively stopping himself from interrupting. With you, though, it’s easy. He likes learning about you. The stories of your childhood, your interests and irritations, your loves and dislikes, your passions. Hours pass in the blink of an eye, and soon you both notice the sky darkening. You both look up, but the sun is still fairly high in the sky.

Storm clouds are rolling in aggressively, and as you both get to your feet, you hear the patter of rain hitting the grass and tree leaves. In a few minutes, you’re both pretty wet as you try to gather up the picnic materials.

The two of you duck under the thick curtain of one of the willow tree's branches. It's not perfect, but it's a lot drier than outside. You laugh breathlessly and shiver, trying to rub warmth back into your hands.

"Cold, baby?"

"A little. I'm ok."

"C'mere." He holds out his arms, and you swallow as you accept his embrace. He's warm, and he rubs your arms gently.

You stare at one another, both afraid to cross the unspoken line between you. He moves first, tilting his head ever so slightly towards yours, and his hands increase pressure on your arms just enough for you to notice. Your heart is beating like a marching band in your chest, so loud in your ears that it drowns out the noise of rain. 

Every one of Yondu's muscles is tensed. He's never felt like this. Kissing a woman, it's supposed to be easy. Just part of the seduction process, leading up to making love, then it's done. The woman's gone, and he doesn't care. 

But this? This is _not_ easy. He's nervous about even entertaining the idea of kissing you. What if he messes it up somehow? What if he does it wrong? Hurts you? Or you don't like it? Millions of questions and scenarios flit through his brain, each one worse than the last. He's never been afraid that a woman would reject him. He's had hundreds - maybe thousands of women over his career as a Ravager. He's used to them throwing themselves at his feet, but you're different. He’s had some dangerous women, those that will put up a little fight, which is nice for a change, but he always wins them over with charm or force and takes them to his bed. He's tried his charms on you, even openly flirted with you on occasion, to see what might happen, but you haven't quite bit the lure. And there's something about you - your patience, your kindness, your care - that prevents him from taking you by force. For the first time that he can remember, the next move is in the woman's hands, not his. His thoughts reel.

Then you place your hand tentatively against his shoulder, lightly gripping the wet fabric of his t-shirt, and his mind just goes blank. He's suddenly super aware of every little thing - the sound of the rain outside, the smell of leaves under his feet, the wet sheen of your hair, the slight coldness of your fingers seeping through his shirt, the rosy color of your lips. His eyes linger on them for a second; this isn't the first time he's thought about how you'd taste. He has a guess – coffee, and that honey you like to put on your toast sometimes.

Your beautiful eyes are locked with his, searching for something that he can't express, and you tilt your head up towards his. He leans in a little closer, and watches as your eyes flutter closed. That's it - that's his invitation.

You feel his breath on your face, and his lips just barely brush against yours. 

A deafening crack of thunder breaks the sky right above the tree, shaking the earth around you. You let out a loud gasp. “Holy crap!” Yondu holds you tight against him, laughing lightly in your ear. "Sorry," you say, feeling heat flood your cheeks.  _He – he almost kissed me. Damn thunder._ The thought takes you mildly by surprise and makes you blush deeper.

As Yondu holds you, he swallows, then grits his teeth.  _Dammit. I was so close, girl. I should just kiss you anyway._ He strongly considers it; he can picture it in his mind, pulling you away from his chest to crash his lips to yours, only to leave you breathless and wanting more. But he doesn't move; he just holds you until you decide it's time to let go. "Thank you," he hears you say.

He runs light fingers along your hair. "Any time, baby."

You catch his eyes in surprise.  _Any time? What are you implying, Yondu? Keeping me warm? Holding me? Kissing me? All of it?_ You tuck your hair behind your ear and turn away from him. To your slight relief and slight disappointment, the rain begins to let up and the sun breaks through the clouds. 

You gather up the picnic supplies and head back to the cabin.


	11. You Can't Hurry Love

"Here," you say, tossing a pair of swim trunks at Yondu. 

He catches them. "What's this?"

"Put those on - um, you don't wear underwear with those. Or a shirt. They're for swimming. We're going in the hot tub. I mean, if you want."

"Ya jus’ tell me where to go, darlin'." He holds back a smirk.  _No underwears, huh?_

You point out to a jacuzzi tub tucked in the far corner of the deck. "I'll meet you out there in fifteen minutes, okay?"

Yondu changes, sneaking a regretful glance at his frame in the mirror. _Not as young as I used to be,_ he sighs. His eyes dart over the numerous scars that cover him, and he shakes his head. _Not anything she ain’t seen before, I guess,_ he thinks as his eyes travel over the scar from the shrapnel. He tosses his clothes into his bedroom and heads down the stairs and out onto the deck.

In your room, you stand over your bed where your swimsuits are laid out. You brought a few with you, in case there was a day hot enough to go in the lake, or if you wanted to go in the hot tub. Two of them are more on the modest side, but the third is a bikini. You bite your lip and run your hands over your face. _Augh, what do I do?_ The last thing you want Yondu to think is that you’re going after him as a rebound from Devon, because that’s not what it is. You don’t know _what_ it is that you have going on between the two of you, exactly. But you definitely almost kissed earlier. With a deep breath, you reach for the bikini.

Yondu puts his hand in the water. It's hotter than he thought, but it's not too uncomfortable. He decides to get in; doesn't want to make an embarrassing show of himself trying to lower his nether regions into hot water with you watching. He eases himself into tub, hissing at first, but he soon relaxes, and starts to enjoy himself.  _I gotta get me one of these,_  he thinks with a soft sigh, leaning his head back. He almost dozes off when he hears the door slide open. He opens his eyes to see you wrapped in a towel, and you put a couple bottles of beer on a tray near his elbow. You put a bottle of wine and a couple glasses on another tray at the other side of the tub, then you turn your back to him and remove the towel.

He sits up straight. You're barely wearing  _anything_. From this view, he can see there's a tie around your neck and one around the middle of your back, and then you're wearing something that looks like brightly-colored underwear. It shows off your legs and your ass, which looks  _damn fine_ in his opinion – even moreso than usual. You fold the towel over the back of a chair and turn. Your top is more like a bra than anything else, and its pattern matches your bottoms. The cleavage it reveals is deep. The swimsuit shows more than plenty of your body, and he's really liking what he sees.

He didn't know what he was expecting you to wear, but this wasn't it. He shifts in the tub, feeling the trunks he's wearing grow a little tighter.  _Shit._

You fight not to meet Yondu’s stare, because you know he _is_ staring. You climb up the into the hot tub, and he holds out a hand to help you down. You step in gingerly, easing yourself down across from him.

“Oooh, that feels nice," you sigh. "How are you doing?"

"M'great," he says, trying to distract himself by opening a beer. 

"Is it too hot?"

"No, I like it. Was just thinkin' I might have to build one of these on my ship.”

You laugh lightly, and lean your head back, resting your arms on the side of the tub.

Yondu lets his eyes trail from your navel up to your breasts, across your throat. He licks dry lips, wondering what you taste like, then frowns. If he ever gets the chance at you, he’s not going to be the first to taste that beautiful skin. He fights back a scowl. “Ya bring any a' yer boyfriends here?" he asks, taking a swig of his beer.

You turn your head back to face him, and avert your eyes as you pour a glass of wine for yourself. "I brought Devon here once, but I don't think he enjoyed himself - he's not really an outdoor person." you grow quiet, turning your glass in your hands.

"Not the adventurous type, eh?"

"No," you reply. "Not really my type at all. Looking back, I honestly couldn't tell you how we got together."

"Yer better off without him, darlin'," Yondu says, and you nod. "He didn't take care of you. Now if you was mine-" he snaps his mouth shut and turns his face away. “Shit.”

You become still and put your glass on the table next to you. Yondu's face is flushed, his eyes are burning.

In that moment, you realize that you've fallen for him for sure. This coarse, rough-edged Ravager has stolen your heart in a way that no man ever has before. He's a risk-taker, a dreamer, a rogue and an outlaw, where you've played it safe all your life. He’s the adventure you’ve always craved, and yet he makes you feel protected, and more secure than any other man in your life has before. You push off your side of the tub and come to rest at his side. "If I was yours...?" you ask, breathlessly.

He turns to you in surprise, and cups your face in his hand. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse. "If you was mine, darlin’, I’d treat you right. I'd always be there for ya."

He shivers as you tentatively slide your hands up his pectorals to circle around his neck. His mind flies back to under the willow tree, the sweet, softness of your lips against his for the briefest of moments. If he wanted you then, he's desperate for you now.

"You want this, girl?" he murmurs. He barely waits for your nod before pulling you towards him, pressing his mouth against yours. His lips are hotter than you expected, rough and chapped, but it’s perfect. You love it. The kiss is open-mouthed; you feel the slight scrape up his teeth on your bottom lip as he moves against you. All too soon, though, you feel his mouth pull away from yours, and you open your eyes.

He runs a blue tongue slowly, sensually over his teeth. His pupils are so blown out that only a silver of ruby remains. “Mm,” he murmurs. “Damn, ya taste _fine._ ” With a grin, he pulls you in again, tangling his hand in your hair as he slips the band out. This time, his movements are hungry and almost impatient as he kisses you. His hands wander freely over your body, calloused fingers caressing your back, squeezing your hips, your butt.  One of his massive hands fixes itself over your thigh and shifts you, so you are straddling his lap.

Pulling gently on your hair, he eases your head back to expose your neck. His fin skims your cheek as he bends his head to your collarbone, and you feel his lips graze against the skin in a soft kiss. He moves up from there, his movements teasingly light. Heat juts to your core, and you dig your nails into his shoulders as he reaches the most tender flesh of your throat. You let out a low moan of pleasure, and feel him tremble beneath you.

“Yeah, baby,” he breathes against your shoulder. You lean forward and hold him tightly, kissing his neck in return. He chuckles, but the laugh dissolves into a moan as you take his earlobe into your mouth, biting slightly. He buries his face in your neck. “I want ya,” he growls. He pulls you tighter against him, to make you feel the hardness between his legs.

You gasp and pull away. He sees in your eyes that you’re nervous, that he’s gone too far, too fast. Any other woman, he’d ignore that look and take anyway, but not you. He’s resolved not to treat you like any other woman he’s ever had; you’ve had enough jackasses in your life without adding him to the list. You’re gonna be his, but he’s gonna do this on your terms. He shifts you backwards, onto his knees. “I want ya,” he repeats with obvious difficulty, and lets out a shaking breath. “But only when yer ready.”

Relief floods your frame, and you take his face in your hands, touching your lips lightly against his. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“Any time, baby,” he says with a smug smile. He trails his fingers over your shoulder, down your arm, until they interlock with yours. His eyes dart down to your hand as he raises it. “Best get outta this tub, before them cute little fingers get all wrinkled and whatnot.”

You laugh, blushing as he brushes his lips against your knuckles, and stand. He watches the water stream down your body in rivulets. He stands also, and you almost gasp. He seems taller, somehow. More powerful. More confident.

You climb out of the tub, retrieving your towel.

As Yondu dries off, he turns, and for the first time - you don't know how you missed it all this time - you see a long, brutal scar running from the base of his skull, where his fin ends, all the way down his spine to the small of his back. Before you can stop yourself, you've reached out a hand to trail your fingers down it. He stiffens fiercely at the contact, and you draw back. "I'm sorry."

He doesn't look at you, but his shoulders slowly release their tension. "Go ahead," he says.

You trace the scar, and a shiver wracks his body. "What happened?" you whisper.

"Y'remember I told ya 'bout the Kree?" he asks, turning, catching your hands in his. At your nod he continues, "Centaurians – that’s what I am - have fins. No, mine’s an implant," he says, seeing your eyes dart up to it. "They got natural ones. Allows 'em to guide trajectory of arrows n' such, among other things. Well, the Kree decided it was too big a risk for me to keep mine." His voice deepens to a snarl, and he looks over the railing, out across the water. "One day they – they jus’ dragged me outta my pen, slapped me down on a cold steel table, took a big ol’ knife, and sliced it off.” A shudder runs through him at the memory. “Was only eight or so, probably. Mebbe younger." When he turns back to you, there are tears on your cheeks. "Aw shit, honey," he says softly, rubbing them away with his thumbs. "It's ok. Don't hurt anymore. Jus’ part a’ who I am.” He turns from you again, and you run your fingers along the scar lightly. He tenses again, but doesn't try to stop you.

Moving in closer, you wrap your arms around his middle and rest your lips against the scar, letting them linger on his skin. His hands grasp yours, holding them firmly until you feel him raise them to his lips, kissing each finger in turn.

\---

As you watch a movie that night, Yondu holds you against him on the couch, his fingers brushing lightly up and down along your thigh. You feel more content than you have in recent memory. 

Yondu half-watches the movie; though there's a lot of Terran historic references that he doesn't quite understand, he enjoys it anyway. But he enjoys you more. This is all he's wanted for weeks: you snuggled up against him, your arms around him, turning your head to softly kiss him every once and awhile. He loves the taste of your lips, and the he can still feel the touch of your fingers against his scar. That almost turned him on more than anything, which was unexpected. The fact that you have compassion and aren’t afraid of his past; it’s something he’s never experienced in a woman before.

The movie ends. As the credits roll, he slides a hand across your shoulders, drawing you nearer, and you shift positions, tucking your leg underneath you. You lay an arm across his stomach, and lay your head against his chest, snuggling into him. Your head fits right into the hollow above his pectorals, as if it were meant to rest there. You kept your hair down, and he combs his fingers through your locks. You let out a quiet, contented sigh as he drags his nails lightly across your scalp. "Feelin' satisfied, honey?" he asks with a small smirk.

"Almost," you say, and turn to kiss him. He buries his hands in your hair, pulling your head further against his as he deepens the kiss. You feel him bite on your lower lip and gasp at the sharp pain. You realize he meant to make you gasp the moment he pushes his tongue inside your mouth. He tastes almost smoky - like barbecue char, not cigarettes - and there's a hint of woody alcohol, like bourbon. You hum in pleasure and circle your tongue around his, then adjust your mouth to push your tongue past the gate of his jagged teeth. He groans, his hands moving to your waist as he clutches at you.

Your body is flushed with heat; your fingers, toes and abdomen tingle with sexual desire. As he lifts you bodily to straddle his hips and settles you down against him, you feel your panties have grown damp. The thought of intercourse with Yondu sends shiver down your spine, heat striking between your legs mercilessly. It scares you, too. You have no idea what it would be like.

He tips you back on his knees, tilting his head to the side as he goes in for your neck. "Baby," he whispers huskily against your skin. "The things you do to me." He tugs your shirt off one shoulder, kissing and licking the skin.

You hum in pleasure, resting your head against his. You feel the scrape of his teeth against your clavicle, and your breath quickens at the unexpected sensation. You're just about to ask what he's doing when he  _bites_.

You gasp loudly, pushing away from him, but his hands clench in your shirt, holding you firm. The sharpness is gone in an instant, and his hot, slick tongue is massaging the sore spot. You feel him raise his head and lean back slightly to look him in the eyes. "Should'a warned ya, baby," he said, licking his teeth, "I'm a biter. Hope I didn't scare ya."

You let out a nervous laugh. "Good thing I know you're not a Vampire." You crane your neck down, just barely able to see the blossoming red mark where his teeth punctured the skin. Anyone would be able to see that, unless you're wearing a turtleneck. You blink, and turn your eyes to his. "Did you - did you  _mark_  me? Like, so someone else would be able to see it?"

You expect him to be nervous, or uncomfortable, but he's not in the least. He almost looks proud. "Sure did, doll."

You look down at it, and bite your lip. You can't believe this, but you're turned on by the sight of it. "That's...that's kinda hot."

His fingers tighten at your hips, and he chuckles. "If ya like it, I will mark ya all over, baby."

You laugh again, unable to shake that nervous tremor out of the tone. "M-maybe not everywhere."

He lifts your shirt up slightly, just over your navel. You know that he’s seen more than that already because of the swimsuit, but this feels much more intimate. You place a hand over Yondu’s, pushing it back down.

He looks at you quizzically. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just think we need to keep it slow, that’s all.”

In the depths of his eyes, there’s a spark of frustration. But he draws his hand away, opting to stroke the side of your face instead. “Okay, baby. Fer you, I can do that.”


	12. Listen to the Music

You're lying on the couch with your legs over Yondu's lap, reading a book while he works on his arrow. He suddenly jerks under you, and you nearly drop your book in surprise. "Whoa, are you okay?"

He shakes his head as if to clear it, then turns to you with a wide smile. "I got it workin'!"

You sit up, drawing your legs under you to kneel by his side, peering over his shoulder at the weapon. "How do you know?"

He taps his implant with a finger. "Can feel it. What ya say we give it a test, huh?" He gets to his feet, and you follow him out onto the deck. 

"How does it work?"

Yondu holds the arrow in his open palm and sneaks a side glance at you with that shark's grin. Then, he purses his lips and whistles. 

Your laugh gets stuck in your throat as the lights on the arrow glow red, and it rises into the air. The circuitry on Yondu's fin runs the same color, flashing and moving steadily along its grooves. His whistle warbles intentionally, strong and steady. The arrow twirls, tipping end over end in the air before him. He glances at you again, then utters a sharp whistle through his teeth. The arrow flies away so fast that it's just a streak of scarlet over the lake.

"Whoa!" you cry, leaning over the railing to watch. It's so far gone now that it's disappeared from sight. "That is amazing!" you say, unable to keep a grin from your face. "How do you know where it is?"

"I can see it," he says, then grunts. "Well, it’s more like I can see echoes of what's around it, up here," he taps the side of his head. "The arrow is connected to m'implant, and the implant is connected to m'brain. The vibration of the arrow hits off stuff around it, givin' me a picture."

"Kind of like echolocation."

"Yeah, kinda like that." 

"So where is it now?"

Yondu points to a bend at the far edge of the lake, where there's a cluster of pine trees. "It's jus' hoverin' over there, waitin' fer me to whistle again." He licks his lips and lets out, a low-pitched, winding note. A streak of red blows past the pine trees and out into open water. With a loud, upturned pitch, it does a loop and plunges into the water. 

"Lotta creatures down there," he says. "Little ones. Oh, there's a big one."

"Fish."

"Ya want fish fer dinner?" he asks with a wink.

You laugh. "No thanks."

He chuckles. "A'ight." He whistles again, and the arrow bursts out of the waves, soaring into the sky like a firecracker. With a sly glance at you, Yondu does a series of gentler, quick notes. The arrow makes shapes in the air; a star, a planet with X-shaped rings, and lastly, a heart.

You smile at him, and intertwine your fingers with his. "You can be pretty sweet."

He laughs and pulls you against his side. "I can be pretty dirty too," he hisses in your ear.

You hide your face with one hand as you blush. "I have no doubt," you laugh.

He kisses the top of your head. "Okay, let's get this thing back in here." He whistles loudly, the kind of pattern you'd use to call someone to you, and the arrow races back towards you both. You gasp a little but Yondu doesn't flinch, so you swallow and stay by his side. He snatches the arrow in mid-air with a fist, and the circuitry on both the arrow and his fin fades away. He smiles down at you. "Pretty impressive, huh?"

"Yeah," you say, with a quick kiss on his lips.

He twirls it in his fingers. "Well now this is workin', it should'a sent a signal up to the Eclector and the Quadrant." 

Your smile falters, and you nod. "That's good. I’m – I’m glad." Turning away from him, you go back into the cabin. 

Yondu follows you with his eyes, heart sinking.  _There I go, ruinin' the mood._ He sighs.  _The signal's out to the crew, it's only a matter of time before they find me. Until then, I'm gonna have to make the most of my time with ya, darlin'._ Sticking his arrow in his back pocket, he strides into the cabin after you.

As he walks in, he hears you running water and clanking pots in the kitchen. But you've got music playing, so he takes that as a good sign. It means you’re not angry, and not too sad either. Deciding you might just want some time to yourself for a minute, he settles down on the couch, tossing his arrow on the coffee table.

In the kitchen, you fill a pot with water for a pasta dinner and set it on the stove to boil.  _He's going to leave. You know he'd have to, sooner or later. He can't stay here. He wouldn't be happy here._  The thought makes your heart sink even lower, but you know it's true. Yondu might be happy right now with you, but someone so wild and fearless as he is would start to die inside after a while without that adventure and danger he's lived with for sixty-some years. You shake your head at yourself, and force yourself to smile.  _It’s not like they’re coming this second to get him. Enjoy it while it lasts._ You rummage in the pantry for a jar of spaghetti sauce, humming along to the playlist you have going. The current song ends, and a new one begins.

_If you want it to be good girl, get yourself a - bad boy_

Yondu’s head perks up, and he grins at the lyrics - then smiles even wider as he hears a gasp from the kitchen and your fast footsteps.

"Where's my phone?" he hears you say to yourself. "Stupid song!"

"Ya lookin' for this, darlin'?" Yondu asks, holding up your phone from where it sits on the coffee table. You poke your head into the room, and he wiggles it in his hand.

"Yeah, I just want to change the song," you say. Your face is flushed a deep red.

_If you really like it hot, find someone who hits the spot honey_

Yondu grins and gets to his feet, phone in hand. "Mebbe I wanna listen."

"No, come on." You hold out your hand, but Yondu slips behind the couch, out of reach. "Hey! Give me that!"

_If you want to get it done, you gotta get the one, the one who's got it goin on_

You chase him around the couch a couple times, then into the kitchen, where he holds it high above his head. You jump, trying to reach it, but your efforts are in vain. Now you're both laughing, making it harder to stand up straight.

"Come  _on!_ " you pant, jumping again. "What do I have to do to get it back?"

"Hmm," he gives you a villainous grin. "Dance fer it."

"What!"

"Dance to this song."

"No!"

"Ain't gettin' it back, then," he says with a shrug, shifting it to his other hand as you try to reach it again. 

_If you like it innovative, better get someone creative honey...and if you want it to be jammin', gotta get somebody slammin', baby...._

Yondu's laugh at the suggestive lyrics die in his throat as you swing and roll your hips, coming closer, running your hands down your chest, along your sides, down your thighs. You come up close to him, and slide your hands up his stomach, over his pectorals, and run one finger under his chin, tickling his beard. He swallows visibly, eyes dilated, and his arms lower to hold you.

"Thank you!" you cry, snatching the phone out of his hand.

"SHIT!"

You giggle and run out of the room, but he's fast on your heels. You let out a playful shriek and dive out the deck door, pounding down the steps as fast as your feet can go. You can barely run, you're laughing so hard. You reach the end of the stairs and jump into the sand. 

You only get a few steps before you feel his arms around your waist. _"Gotcha!"_ he yells with a laugh. His momentum was too much though, and you both go tumbling down. He shifts at the last second so he's on the bottom, and lands in the sand with a grunt.

You both laugh long and hard, and then as it dies away, you just stare at each other. Slipping the phone in your back pocket, you wrap your arms around him and cover his mouth with yours.

He hums in pleasure, his hands wandering over your body. He hooks his hands around your thighs, pressing you down closer against him. You feel an unmistakable hardness pressing into your lower belly, but you can't deny it feels good. The resultant heat pooling between your legs is like fire. You let your hands wander underneath his shirt, caressing his muscles and scars. "Yondu..." you moan against his mouth.

He slips the band out of your hair and tangles his hand in your locks. "[y/n] ...." he groans back. He lifts his head to your neck, his tongue running along your jaw. You moan as he nips and sucks at your throat, leaving love bites and hickeys in the most visible places. You feel his hands sneak up the back of your shirt to caress your lower back and tease your ribcage. They travel lower, and he squeezes your butt through your jeans.

You giggle and reach around him to do the same.

A noise like a growl escapes him and he seizes your head to capture your lips again. You rest against him, relaxing as you concentrate on the feel of his mouth moving against yours. You lay there on top of him for several minutes, until the friction between your bodies is too much to bear.

You lift yourself off him, breathless. 

Yondu sits up, pulling you closer and adjusting your legs so you're kneeling on either side of his lap. 

You take your fingers and trace the scars along the right side of his head, brush your knuckles against his beard, down his chin. You run you fingers over the circular scars at his throat and down the scars on his arms.

"What're ya doin', darlin’?" he asks quietly.

"Memorizing you," you say tentatively, "So I never forget what you look like." Your voice breaks slightly. As you raise your eyes to his, he takes your face in his hands, pulling you forward to meet his lips. It's a gentle, deep and burning kiss, full of yearning.

"Somethin' else to remember me by," he whispers against your lips as you break apart. He combs his fingers through your hair and sighs. "I ain't never gonna forget ya, baby."


	13. Hungry Like the Wolf (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter contains NSFW content.

Still kneeling in the sand, you hug Yondu tightly, leaning your forehead into his shoulder.

Yondu smooths his hands up and down your back, still heated from the chase and your make out session. It sure was nice, but he's not satisfied. He hasn't had enough of you yet.

Yondu’s embrace warms your whole body, and you press yourself closer against him, closing your eyes as you shift your head into the crook of his neck. You breathe him in: wood, sweat, smoke, and a tang of something metallic. You just want to stay in his arms forever, but he's going to have to leave. You squeeze your eyes shut even further.  _Don't cry, don't cry._ You hold him tighter, and successfully fight off your tears. After a minute or two, you lean away again. "The water's probably boiling up there, are you hungry?"

Yondu nods.  _Oh, I'm hungry fer somethin' all right._

The two of you watch another movie through dinner, and Yondu is uncharacteristically quiet. He keeps looking at you, touching your hair, hand and thigh while you're sitting together. A few times, his fingers get dangerously close to your jeans zipper.

When the movie is done, it's already pretty late. You clear off the plates and set to cleaning up the kitchen before bed. Yondu leans against the counter, arms crossed, and you feel his eyes on you the entire time. There’s something different about his behavior since you made out earlier; a rough and possessive sort of vibe is emanating off him - you can feel it like electricity in the air.

As you’re setting the last dish to dry, you hear him approach you from behind. His hands slip around your waist and draw you back against his body. You pull away slightly from him, but he draws you back again. "Ssh, ssh." His breaths are hot against your neck. His fingers trail feather-light over your shirt, teasing the waistband of your pants and the edge of your bra through the thin fabric. You feel your eyes close. Your breath catches as his fingers brush over your breast, and you hear him chuckle softly.

When he speaks, his voice is low, seductive; his words are measured and slow. "Ya like it when I touch ya, baby?" You feel him pull the shirt down over your shoulder, and his mouth rests against your arrow tattoo. "Ya like when I run my hands over yer cool lil' body?" He slips a hand under your shirt, stroking the tender area below your navel, his pinky dipping below your waistband and brushing against your underwear. You bite your lip. "Ya feel that heat spreadin' through yer skin?" His lips ghost against your temple. His voice drops lower, whispers in your ear. "Ya feel that  _need_ between yer legs?"

You can't fight it anymore, and let out a low moan. 

"Tha's right," he sighs, and you feel him bury his face against your shoulder, his beard prickly and arousing against your skin. "I can ease that  _need._  Ya just tell me whatcha want me to do to ya, baby." His hand moves up a little higher under your shirt, his thumb just skimming the area beneath your bra. "I will do anythin' to ya that ya want."

A whimper escapes your lips at dozens of scenarios that enter your mind, each more erotic than the last.

His voice becomes less and less gentle, with each word turning into a primitive growl. "Ya want me to pull off yer shirt, kiss all that sweet, soft skin a yers? Ya want me to slip my hand down yer pants, touch ya? Ya gotta be drippin' wet fer me by now." You gasp, blushing.

He chuckles darkly, and his fingers tighten around your hips. "Or do ya want me to tear off yer clothes, take ya right here on the counter? Up against th' wall? Or ya want me to carry ya up to my bed?" 

"Ohh Yondu...." you moan, pressing back against him.

He pulls you forcefully against his body, grinding against your backside so you can feel his hardness for you. "Dammit [y/n], do ya have any idea whatcha do to me?"

Tears prick at your eyes at the overwhelming sensation of him - the feel of his large hands caressing you, his body against yours, his scent washing over you. You feel heat strike right between your legs, but you still want to keep things slow. "I'm sorry," you say, gasping. "I'm - I'm not ready for that yet."

He sweeps his hands up and down your ribcage, and peppers your neck with kisses. "Tha's all right, darlin'. Don't have to go that far. But ya need to give me somethin'. Else I'm liable to go mad...and then I don't know what I'll do ta ya." He releases you, and you turn to face him.

After a moment of staring at him, you tentatively lift your shirt over your head. You see his pupils dilate even further at the sight of your bare skin, and his implant glows. You pull your hairband out and shake your hair loose so it falls around your shoulders. You approach him, fingering the edge of his shirt, and he yanks it off, throwing it to the floor before pulling you into his arms. He leans back against the counter with a soft, shaking sigh as you run your hands up and down his chest, brushing lightly against the scar that brought him to you. Bending, you kiss his pectorals lightly, trailing your lips slowly upwards along his collar bone so he tips his head back. His eyes are closed, his mouth open, breathing fast. You brush your fingers along his face, scratching his beard slightly so that he smiles and hums in pleasure. You trace the scars on the side of his head, and reach out to touch the puckered, scarred skin where his fin meets his head. You do so, and he lurches forward. "Oh shit!" 

You gasp, pull away in fright. "Oh my god, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?"

He's trembling, staring at you with wide eyes. His mouth hangs open, but he doesn't look like he’s angry or in pain. "N-No," he stammers. "That was...that - that felt...do that again."

He keeps his eyes on yours as you cautiously reach up to his head. As you run a couple fingers along the base of his fin, his eyes squeeze shut. His grip on you tightens drastically, and he lets out a long, low moan. "Ohhh shit yes." 

"Wow, is that an erogenous zone for you?" you ask quietly with a small smile. 

"Guess so," he says with a breathless, shaking laugh. "No one's ever touched me like that before."

You smile, and back away from him, tugging at his arm. Yondu tries to fix you with a predatory grin, but his legs are still trembling from that unexpected pleasure point. "Where we goin', honey?"

"Couch." You lead him to the living room, and push him down into a sitting position.

"Ooh, takin' charge. I like it." He smirks at you, then his mouth drops as you climb on top of him, straddling his lap and pressing your chest to his. He lets his hands rest at your hips, but doesn't move otherwise. You shift your legs, and roll your hips a little, pressing down into his groin. You rock slightly against him, tilting your head back and biting your lip as his erection rubs hard against the seam of your jeans. His eyes roll back. "Oh gods, baby."

You run your hands up and down his chest. Opening his eyes, Yondu sees that your breasts are now pretty much level with his face, and you're wearing a lacy little number that he can just see your nipples through. "Ok," he says roughly, shifting himself into a straighter sitting position. "Y'all can't have all the fun, now. C'mere." With that, he pulls you against him, burying his face between your breasts. You lean back slightly as his fin skims against your cheek. He places soft kisses wherever he can reach, and gasp as you feel his tongue slide down your cleavage and over the top of one breast. 

You touch the newly-found erogenous zone on his head, and he clutches at you. With a yank so violent it nearly tears the fabric, he pulls down on one of your bra cups, exposing your left breast completely. The nipple is hard in the cool air. His grip tightens on your waist, drawing you even closer. "Oh yeah," he growls. He draws the nipple between his sharp teeth, holding it in place so his tongue can flick the sensitive bud.

You cry out in pleasure, your hands bracing against the back of his head to keep him in position. He moans against your skin, gripping you hard, and reaches around to unhook the garment completely. He leans away just long enough to tear it from your arms, and returns to your breast with vigor. Once he's teased the nipple with his tongue to his satisfaction, he draws more of the flesh into his mouth and sucks. He fondles your other breast, rolling and pinching the nipple between his rough fingertips.

 

You moan in pleasure, and continue stroking the base of his fin with faster and shorter strokes. He groans against you. "Shit yes," he rests his forehead against your chest, unable to concentrate on anything other than the pleasure you’re giving him. "Yes, baby. _Yes, jus' like that_. Oh shit, baby.  _Shit_ \- I can't do this." He lifts you and practically throws you back down against the couch, trapping you beneath his body. His hands are everywhere at once, caressing your back, squeezing your hips, fondling your breasts. He captures your lips in a kiss, one so rough, hot and needy that you can barely breathe. All the while, he's rocking his hips against yours, trying to find some release. Sitting up for just a moment, he unbuttons and zips down his pants which you can tell are strained to the max with his erection. "Hurts," he says, breathless. 

Without thinking, you reach for him and run your hand along his hard cock, feeling his warmth through the fabric of his boxers. He's big, and thick. You feel some kind of ridges through the fabric, too. He suddenly grips your wrist, hard. You look up into his face in surprise. He's wearing an expression that you've never seen on him, and it frightens you. You realize it’s a look of pure lust, his eyes dilated and dark. "Y'all better get outta here," he growls in a deep tone, "I can't...I can't hold m'self back, ya lookin' like this, ya touchin' me like this."

You tremble, but hear yourself say, "Then don't."

He squeezes your wrist tighter. "Ya don't understand what yer sayin', girl." He leans in close, pressing his hips almost painfully hard against you, his eyes blazing with a ferocious, hungry light. "If ya don't get outta here, I'm gonna fuck yer lil' pussy so damn hard that yer gonna be fuckin'  _screaming. And y’ain’t ready.”_  He swallows hard, leans off of you, and pushes you off the couch. "Git."

You struggle to your feet, staring at him. He's acting so animalistic. Part of you loves it, finds it irresistibly arousing, and wants him to pound you as hard as he can into the couch, but part of you is terrified - and it's the latter that wins out this time. You gather your bra from the floor, and run upstairs.

\---

The next morning, you knock softly on his bedroom door, but it swings open. The bed's empty, still made so it hadn't been slept in. Pulling your hair into a ponytail, you creep down the stairs. Pausing on the landing, you see Yondu sprawled asleep on the couch. A blanket covers one leg and half his torso. You can see that his legs are bare and if you had to guess, he's probably naked. You blush deeply, picturing him getting himself off, thinking of you.

Picking up another blanket preemptively to shield your eyes should he be startled and fling off his cover, you approach him. Sure enough, his pants and are discarded on the floor. "Yondu?" you call softly, keeping a few feet away from him.

Yondu snorts loudly and bolts upright. He sees you, runs a hand over his face. "Oh shit, darlin'. Mornin' already?" His eyes focus, and his eyes widen. "Oh. Oh shit." He stands quickly, and you lift the blanket to cover your eyes with a small laugh.

"Aw hell." You hear a shuff as he pulls his pants on, the noise of a zipper. "Ok, I'm decent honey."

You lower the blanket and smile at him. "Hi," you say shyly.

"Hi." He rubs the back of his neck, averting his eyes. "Look baby, I think I scared ya yesterday and I didn't mean to."

"I know," you say, hugging him with the blanket and kiss his lips softly. He frees one arm from the blanket to cradles the back of your head, and returns the kiss with deep, gentle movements.

When he pulls away, his eyes are glowing with a warm, loving light. "Yer so good to me, sweetheart."

"Aww." You lean into him, resting your head on his chest, and he backs up, pulling you down to sit on the couch with him. He wraps his arms around you, pulling the blanket around both your shoulders. He's never been content just to sit with someone, doing nothing like this. You're cool against his skin, your hair sweet smelling and slightly damp from your shower. The words  _I love you_  float through his mind, and he almost flinches.

You frown a bit as he gets up from the couch without you, but smile as he tucks the blanket back around your shoulders. "Gonna get a shower, darlin'."

"Ok, I'll get some breakfast going."

Yondu lets the water run over his naked body and leans against the tile.  _I can't love her. She don't know what I am. The horrible things I've done. Does she have to know?_ The thought stops him for a second.  _What if I stayed here with her for the rest of m'life? She wouldn't have to know about any of it._ The idea sounds appealing, for a moment or two. Then he remembers a couple reasons he can't possibly stay here.  _Peter. Kraglin._ He sighs and lets the water run over his face. Your sweet smile and gentle words creep into his minds, closely followed by your moans and the touch of your hands on his skin. _Gods, girl. What are ya doin’ to me?_

The rest of that entire day, Yondu seems a lot more cautious around you, but you make sure to kiss him and tell him that you didn’t mind his behavior. He grins at this and fingers your hips, running the tip of his finger just inside the waistband of your jeans, brushing up against your underwear. "Not yet," he whispers in your ear, "But soon, I hope, huh darlin'?"


	14. Hold Me Now

When you go down the stairs the next morning, you're surprised to see that Yondu is already up. You're an early riser, and you're usually awake before he is. 

The Ravager Captain is leaning against the deck railing with a cup of coffee clenched in his hand. His entire body posture looks tired; his head is hunched between sagging shoulders; his other arm rests limply over the rail.

You bypass the coffee pot and head straight outside. "Good morning, spaceman," you greet him, kissing his cheek. You let your lips linger for a second before pulling away. To your dismay, he doesn't turn to kiss you, just gives you a sort of sad smile.

You frown. "What's the matter?" 

"Nothin'," he says, staring down into his coffee.

"No, come on," you press in a gentle voice, "There's something wrong. You can tell me." You smooth your hand up and down his back.

He stiffens, and edges away. “Ya…ya shouldn’t get involved with me, honey,” he says.

“Well, it’s a little late for that,” you say with a short laugh, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Then we oughta stop whatever this is before we’re in too deep.”

Your stomach tightens into a knot and your heartbeat quickens. “W-why? Did I do something wrong?”

He turns to you, and grasps your hands. “No, darlin’. Ain’t nothin’ you did. You – yer perfect, sweetheart. It’s…it’s me. I ain’t someone you should be havin’ affection for. I’m not a good person, darlin’. Ya deserve someone better than me.” At this, he lets go of you to lean again on the railing.

“Maybe I don’t want anyone else,” you reply. You stroke your fingers lightly along the side of his face. “Yondu, where is this coming from? Please, tell me.”

He’s silent for several minutes before he sighs deeply. He rubs at his eyes tiredly before turning to you. "Ya remember when I told ya I don't dream?"

Your thoughts fly back to his first night at your house. "Yes."

"Well, that was a lie. 'Cept they're nightmares. Every last one of 'em." He inhales deeply, then exhales, his breath coming out in a fog in the chilly air. "Some nights pass by and I don't have 'em, at least not that I remember. But sometimes they're so bad that I don't know how I make it to the next morning without losin' my mind. I tried sleepin’ pills, tried drugs, tried drinkin' 'em away, tried fuckin' 'em away too, but it’s never enough." He grips the coffee cup hard in his hand, then pushes it away before it breaks in his grasp.

“Nightmares don’t make you a bad person.”

“It ain’t the nightmares. Ya don’t understand,” he says in exasperation. “It’s what caused ‘em. What I did.” He braces his hands against the railing and lets out of a huff of breath. "I told ya about Ego."

"Yeah?"

He sighs again, and leans away from you slightly. "Well, I didn't tell ya everything about him. And me."

Yondu tells you about Ego’s children, Ego's plan to use them, and how he helped deliver the children to their father. There were almost ten of them, and he can remember their faces in detail. "I - I didn't know what he was gonna do. I ain't never had a real home or a real family. My damn parents sold me to the Kree, they didn’t care about me. So part of me thought I was doin' somethin good, ya know? Taking these kids home to a father that wanted them. And I was gettin' paid real well, too, so that didn't hurt none, and it helped keep the crew from askin' questions and gettin' ideas." His voice drops to a whisper, for a moment, as if he's talking to himself, reciting something. "Dealin’ in kids is against the Code."

He pauses, his eyes glazing over for a moment, then he shakes his head and takes a deep shuddering breath. "I didn't think there was anything wrong with what I was doin' - it weren't like I was sellin' 'em into slavery.” He raises his eyes to the sky. “But it turned out it was worse than that. I knew somethin’ was wrong. I didn't want to admit it, I was young and greedy, and stupid for not stopping sooner. They was never around when I dropped the next kid off. Never any sign of ‘em. No laughin', no sound a' playin. Ego, he always had some sort a' answer, like they was off playin' somewhere else, or takin' a nap or somethin'. But with the last one, I got tired of listening to his bullshit and asked him plain what had happened to all his kids.” His jaw tightens, his voice trembles. “The bastard takes me aside and tells me that they weren't able to fulfill their  _purpose_ or some shit, and that there weren’t no reason to keep ‘em around anymore, so he'd had to end their lives. Straight up. No remorse. He even laughed about it. The man killed his own _children_. And that was the moment I knew I couldn't go through with it. I couldn't pick up another kid." He swallows. "But I did. Still don't know why I made that last trip, but I came here. To Terra."

"For Peter."

"Tha's right. And I kept him. Came up with a story that would stick with m'crew - he was skinny, he could slip into places that grown Ravagers couldn't, good for thievin'. But Peter's brothers and sisters...they...they're all...." He slams a fist on the deck railing, then clenches it with his hands so hard that it creaks, threatening to crack. "Every time I close my eyes, I see their little faces. If I hadn't been such a damn coward, a damn, good fer nothin'..." he sucks in breath, raising his eyes to the sky. "I might as well have murdered all of them myself.”

"Yondu...." you whisper, touching his arm lightly.

His lips pull over his teeth in a snarl as he jerks his arm away. "I ain't tellin’ ya this lookin' fer pity or forgiveness. I jus’….” He gives a sarcastic, gritty laugh. “I don't know why I'm tellin' ya this. I - I never told nobody." As soon as it appeared, the snarl is gone. “I’m glad I did,” he whispers. “It’s been eatin’ me alive for thirty-five years. But that’s why ya shouldn’t be with me, honey. I… I ain’t worth keepin’ around.” He pauses, sucks in a shaking breath. “Those poor kids.” He lets the words out in a choking breath, and a tear trickles down his cheek and into his beard. He scrubs it away with a disdainful fist, but you catch his arm. He turns his eyes to you, and the bottomless sorrow inside them makes you want to cry.

Gently, you pull him away from the railing and into your arms. You secure your arms around his wide shoulders and back, cradling his head against yours. 

Yondu lets out a quiet gasp. _After everything I’ve told ya, girl,_ this _is how you respond?_ The simple gesture feels far more intimate than any kiss or sexual act. He curls his arms around you, tentative at first, then he knots his hands in your shirt until his knuckles turn white, crushing you against his body, clinging to you like you're the last solid surface in a flood.

He buries his head against your shoulder, and after a moment, you feel a tear drop onto your skin. Then another, and another, until he's practically shaking with silent sobs. You don't let go, running your hands over his back and shoulders. "It's all right, I'm here. I'm here."

You don’t know how long you stand there, but it feels right. When his hold begins to loosen, you still don’t let go. You wait until he backs out of your embrace, then you kiss his cheek, and leave him with his thoughts while you go make breakfast.

For the next hour, you can’t find him.

When you finally do, he’s walking along the beach, and he won’t meet your eyes when you approach.

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Are you okay? I was worried.”

His eyes burn and his lip curls back in a scowl as he gazes over the water. “Ya must think I’m some kinda damn wuss,” he murmurs angrily. “Cryin’ like a child.”

“Stop it,” you say, hands on your hips, and the ferocity in your voice makes him flinch. His scowl is gone, his eyes wide as he looks at you. “I don’t know where people get this idea that crying means you’re weak. You have emotions, get the hell over it. It’s okay to cry sometimes. If you’re blubbering over every little thing, that’s a problem, but you strike me as someone who almost never sheds a tear. Am I right?”

He shifts his gaze to the sand, but nods.

“See, that’s not healthy. I get you probably have this persona to maintain in front of your crew, but I don’t care if you’re the biggest, toughest Ravager Captain in the galaxy. You need to let that out sometimes. Keeping it bottled up, it starts to tear away at your soul after a while.” You lower your voice into a gentler tone. “Did you feel better afterwards?”

He pauses, looks up at you, and gives a reluctant nod.

You reach up and place your hand on his cheek, smoothing your thumb against his beard. “It did not cross my mind a single time that you were weak when you cried in my arms. You were hurting, and I was just hoping I could do something to help.”

He’s silent for a few moments, his ruby eyes glistening as he stares down at you. “How do ya do that?” he whispers.

“Do what?”

“Look at me like that. Like I ain’t a monster?”

“Because you’re not. You’re a man who’s made mistakes, just like everyone else.” He opens his mouth to object, and you put your fingers against his lips to stop him. “We’ve all made mistakes and done things we regret. What matters is how we choose to move forward. You obviously have remorse for what you’ve done. If you didn’t, then I would have cause to worry. But you chose to save Quill, to keep him away from Ego, and even though it hurt along the way, look where you are now. Your family is closer than ever. And…and you’ve got me, too. No one has ever been so upfront and honest with me before, Yondu. And we’ve only known each other a few weeks. People go their whole lifetimes keeping things from each other. But you haven’t. It has to count for something.” You lean in and kiss his lips softly. “You’re not a monster, Yondu. You’re a man – a man that I am so grateful to have in my life right now.”

He cups your cheek, smoothing the skin with his thumb. “Darlin’,” he begins, but can’t finish what he was going to say. Instead, he bends and presses his lips to yours. It’s a different kind of kiss – it’s slow, full of deep longing and desperation. You feel his tears on your face, and you wrap your arms around him as you return the gesture, trying somehow to kiss away all his pain.

“Baby,” he says when you break apart, and strokes your face with his fingers, “How can someone like you exist?” He lets out a choking sort of laugh. “Ya know, I’m startin’ to think that crashing my ship on Terra was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The rest of the day passes by in companionable, comfortable quietness. Yondu keeps stealing glances at you, and it makes you smile. What he did was horrible, but it was years and years ago, and he regrets it. His heart is broken over it. He’s changed, matured since then, from what you can tell from all he’s told you. He might be a smuggler, a thief and a thug, but he’s also a good man. He is also more attentive, honest and respectful of you than any boyfriend you’ve had in the past. You blush at the term. _He’s not my boyfriend,_ you tell yourself. _He’s…I don’t know what to call it, but I sure am glad he broke into my house,_ you think with a smile.

Every glance you return assures Yondu that you're real, not some vision or daydream that he's wandered into, and every one of your smiles reinforces the fact that he's fallen for you in a big way. _I don’t deserve a woman like you,_ he thinks. _Ya should be with someone better than me. Younger. More handsome, wealthy, successful. Another Terran, not some ugly old Centaurian._ Your words from earlier float through his head. _‘Maybe I don’t want anyone else.’_ Heat races to his face as you smile at him over the kitchen counter. _I sure as hell don’t want anyone else but you, darlin’. You are the sweetest damn thing._ He smiles, then reaches for a magazine on the coffee table to try and hide the flush on his cheeks. He spies his arrow lying there, and feels a sting in his heart. His crew is going to be here any day now.

\----

When night comes, you find Yondu out stargazing on the deck, turning his arrow in his fingers. You come up behind him and wrap an arm around his waist. His arm lifts and nestles around your shoulders; his embrace feels like the most natural thing in the world.

"What time is it?" he asks softly.

"It’s getting late. I think I'm gonna head up to bed.”

Yondu nods. "Yeah, I should too." He releases you from his embrace, and you both head inside. You turn off the lights, and as you start to go up the stairs, your eyes meet. The moonlight glints in his eyes from where he stands on the stairway. There’s something in his expression, a spark of something both captivating and dangerous. It draws you in, makes your step falter, but he breaks his gaze from yours, and heads towards his room.

With a pang of regret, you head towards your own door. You get into your pajamas and climb into bed, but you can’t fall asleep. You run your fingers along the edge of the blanket, staring at the ceiling. You can’t Yondu’s eyes out of your head. _That look...like he wanted to tell me something. Why didn’t he?_ Before you realize what you’re doing, you’ve flung off the covers. You’re halfway down the hall, when you see him, climbing the stairs to your wing.

You catch each other’s eyes. There’s a moment so tense that you feel the very air might snap, then in two strides, Yondu has you in his arms. He pins you against the nearest wall, kissing you with a feverish passion. You feel him up through his shirt, trying to memorize the feel of his body. His breath is hot, his hands rough in their movements as he fondles and grasps at you.

"Baby," he gasps between kisses, "I don't think I can live without ya. Don't make me."

You capture his lips and slide your tongue into his mouth; his tongue dances with yours, hot and needy. He holds you closer, breaking away to catch his breath.

You both freeze then, staring at one other, panting.

The look in Yondu’s eyes is tender, but there’s that spark again of something else deep inside, something hot and ferocious. It’s spellbinding. “What do you want?” you hear yourself ask, breathless.  
“What do I want?” he echoes, and his hold tightens on you. “Do I really gotta tell ya that? I think ya know what I want, girl.”

You slide your hands up his chest. “I want to hear you say it.”

His hands shift, hooking under your thighs, and suddenly you find yourself lifted off the ground, held against his body, powerless in his arms. He breaks his gaze as he leans his head towards yours, and you feel the brush of his beard against your ear as he whispers. “I want ya, baby. I want yer mouth, yer skin, yer body…but ya gotta understand that ain’t all. I want every beat a’ yer heart, every word on your lips, every thought in yer mind. I want _everythin’_ about ya, [y/n].” He pulls back. Your face holds a mix of fear and arousal.

“I’m gonna take ya to my bed now.” He forces himself to stand still for a good few seconds, just in case that’s not what you want. But your fingers twine more tightly in his shirt, and he grins triumphantly as he carries you to his room.


	15. Night Moves (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains NSFW content.

Yondu carries you to his bedroom, holding you close to his chest. Though your body is cool against his, he's flushed with heat. You've only known each other for a few weeks, but he feels like he's been waiting his entire life for this moment. He’s never felt this way about anyone.

Sex has been a part of his life since for as long as he can remember, just something done to relieve stress, fool around with someone cute, or pass the time. This isn’t like that. This isn’t some flippant one-night stand; this is special. He cares about you, deeply, and doesn't want to screw this up. He pauses just before his door and looks down into your face. "Ya _do_ want this, don'tcha darlin'? I ain't gonna force ya."

A kiss against his lips, and a tightening of your arms around his neck is your only response. He lets out a lusty growl and strides into the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him.

Tenderly, he lies you back against the pillows. You’re instantly surrounded by his scent, and it makes your heart beat faster. He tears off his shirt and stands at the foot of the bed, chest heaving in excitement. The moonlight streams through the window above your head, falling softly over his blue skin and glowing in his ruby eyes.

The thought of what is about to happen, combined with the lustful gaze he is fixing you with, is already making you damp between your legs. You watch him as he crawls onto the bed, slowly drawing nearer to you until his powerful body is poised over yours. "Yondu," you whisper in a sigh, stroking fingers along his beard.

"[y/n]," he replies with a smile, and bends to claim your lips. His hands slip eagerly under your pajama shirt to fondle your breasts. He closes his eyes and lets out a shuddering sigh at your velvety soft skin, tracing the curve of your back with his fingertips. He pulls your shirt over your head to give himself better access, and sets to your neck, sucking and slightly nipping the skin. He's about to begin on your chest when he feels you push up on him slightly, running your hands over his scars and muscles. 

He doesn't stop you, doesn't say a word, just watches your face as you take your time tracing his scars with your fingers. He's never let a woman do this. He hates his scars, hates how they look and the memories that accompany them; that's why he goes to such lengths to cover them up, wearing multiple layers and even a scarf, neckerchief or a high-necked sweater to hide the marks of the Kree collars and muzzles on his throat. But he finds, curiously, that he doesn't want to hide them from you.

You've seen them all already, due to the nature of your meeting, but realizes he doesn't want to hide them at _all_ – he doesn't want to hide anything from you. He told you his worst secret today, and you had nothing but compassion and understanding. So why should he hide these? He loves the way your eyes study them, trying to guess their stories, and the almost ticklish touch of your fingers as you run them along his skin.

His heart rate increases as you lean forward to kiss the long scar crossing his abdomen. Your cool lips make him shiver as they kiss and part, moving from scar to scar. Your hands rest at his back, caressing him with sweeping strokes. You reach his pectorals, then his collarbone, and slide your arms around his neck, pulling him back down towards you. He locks your lips in a kiss, savoring the sweet honeyed taste of your mouth. He feels you shift beneath him and begin to rock your hips against his. 

"Tha's right baby," he whispers huskily. "Make yerself feel good."

Your voice comes then, quiet. "G-grind against me?"

Yondu chuckles darkly and rolls his hips against yours. A sweet cry escapes you as the rough seam of his jeans rubs hard against your thin pajama pants. He continues to rock against you, and begins to kiss lower, moving from your lips to your throat, to the softest undersides of your breasts, where he licks, leaving hot trails of saliva along your skin. He stops grinding against you and moves himself down until he gets to your waistband.

You swallow as he fixes you with a hungry, mischievous gaze, and bends his jaw to the drawstring of your pants. He does not break his gaze from yours as he takes the ribbon delicately between his teeth, and with a slow - agonizingly slow - pull of his head, undoes the bow.

You are definitely wet now. Your breathing is fast and shallow as he places his hands on your knees and spreads your legs apart. He bends his head, still maintaining eye contact, and pulls at the elastic waistband with his teeth, their sharp edges scraping arousingly against the soft skin below your navel. He lifts he waistband, then lets it go so it snaps against your pubic mound. 

You gasp, heart beating so loud you're sure he can hear it. Your underwear is partially showing now, and you forgot what color you had decided to wear that morning.

He laughs as he traces a finger along the soft fabric. "Ya like blue, darlin'?" he asks in a teasing tone.

"It's one of my favorite colors," you reply with a slightly-trembling smile.

He grins widely at this, and before you know it, he's whisked your pants off your legs. He's about to yank down on your underwear when you cry out, grasping his wrists. "Wait, wait."

"What?" Yondu asks, not bothering to disguise his impatience - that is, until he sees your wide, nervous eyes. His voice softens, and he leans down over you, brushing a strand of hair off your forehead. "What's wrong, baby?"

"I-I've never done this before."

Yondu chuckles. "I ain't never had sex with a Terran before either, honey, it's okay."

"N-no," you say in an uncharacteristically shy voice. "I mean," you hide your face behind your hands. "I've never done this. With anyone." After a couple seconds of silence, you peek through your fingers, and see that he's just staring, wide-eyed at you.

Outwardly, he's momentarily shut down. Inside, his thoughts are racing. _With anyone? So she's a virgin? Then that means...Devon didn't get as far as I'm gonna get with her. Not that it matters, but... she's gonna be mine. All mine._ A grin creeps into his face, wide and unashamed, and a raucous laugh breaks from his throat. 

"Hey! It’s - it's not funny. Stop laughing at me," you protest, tossing a pillow at his head.

He laughs as he catches it. "Doll, doll. I ain't laughin atcha. I jus' can't believe that someone as beautiful as yerself ain't done this before. Jus’ surprised, that's all." He pulls your hands away from your face and draws them around his neck. "C'mere." He rubs his beard into the crook of your neck, and you let out a small shriek of laughter.

"Don't! It tickles!"

"Oh, it does?" He says with a sly smile, and leans in again, nuzzling his chin against your neck. 

"No! No, don't!" You laugh, pushing at his face. He laughs too, bringing you close against his chest where he cradles your head just below his chin.

You're both sitting now, him with a knee on either side of you, and your legs straddled about his hips. You hold onto him, breathing him in and listening to the strange triple-beat of his heart, your head rising and falling against his chest with each of his breaths. He lightly combs his fingers through your hair, and he shifts so he leans a cheek against the top of your head. When he speaks, his voice is low and husky.  "Do ya want me, darlin'?"

You push away so you can look him in the eyes. What isn't taken up by dilated pupil is a deep, bright red, glowing with desire. 

"Yes," you hear yourself say.

"Then...then I'm gonna be yer first?" He asks, lowering you back into the pillows.

A burning blush springs to your cheeks at the thought. You nod shyly.

"Well shit. I ain't never been nobody's first before." He smiles, not that shark grin, but a sly and at the same time a warm smile, as he leans over you. With his mouth just grazing yours so that his voice quivers against your lips, he whispers, "Don't worry, baby. _I'll be real gentle."_ He kisses you deeply, sliding his tongue in past your teeth to probe the hot wetness of your mouth. You moan at the sensation, and feel him grin as he pulls away. He slides down your body, kissing your throat, each breast, and kisses a trail all the way down to your navel. He gets to your underwear, and slips the edge of his pinky underneath, just brushing against your pubic hair.

Your legs buck involuntarily as you gasp.

"Oh ho," he chuckles. "Yer gonna come so fast fer me, baby. But first I'm gonna tease ya so yer nice and wet, so I can slide right inside ya."

Your face - and every other body part - feels like it's on fire at his words. Some of the men you've dated experimented a little with dirty talk, but they never made you feel the way Yondu does when he speaks. Of course, they never got this far, but it’s not just his words; his deep, throaty voice makes the wetness grow between your legs.

He notices your reaction, and gives you a knowing smile. "Ya like when I talk dirty to ya, baby?"

You give him a small, nervous smile, and nod.

"Then yer in luck, because I am the king of talkin' dirty." He sits up, and places his hands on your ankles. "But there's enough time for talk later," he says in a quiet, sensual tone. Slowly, he runs his hands up your calves, over your knees, and slows even further as he reaches your thighs, teasing the soft skin of their insides with grazes of his dark nails. Each pass of his fingers gets him closer and closer to your sex. Locking eyes with you, he reaches between your legs and runs a knuckle along your clothed folds. He hums in satisfaction. "Sweetheart, yer soakin' right through yer underwears." He bends his head to your mound, his implant grazing against your belly, and you feel him take a deep pull of breath. "Damn, darlin'. Ya smell delicious." He looks up at you, and sees your eyes are glazed with lust, your lips parted slightly, your breaths fast. He lets out an impatient sort of grunt, and hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties. His hands twitch, as if they want nothing more than to rip the fabric to shreds, but his eyes flick up to yours again, seeking permission.

Weakly, you nod.

With his breaths coming fast now, Yondu pulls the garment down, dragging it over your legs until they're swept off your ankles. "Spread yer legs for me baby,” he says, breathless. “Let me see ya."

With trembling knees, you slowly move your legs apart, revealing your naked body to him.

As you watch, his eyes grow dark with lust, and bright red currents streak along his implant. He lets out a breath like he’s been holding it. " _Gods_ , yer perfect. _Fuckin' perfect."_ He slides a hand up your leg as he moves to lay alongside you, and presses his lips hard against yours, kissing you with a burning, furious passion. He buries a hand in your hair, curling it into a fist. He eases your head back, and breathes against the softest flesh of your throat. You feel his tongue run from the hollow above your sternum, all the way to the base of your chin. It’s hot, its touch light and teasing.

Heated shivers spread throughout your body, causing you to tremble and clutch at his arms. Yondu continues the path with his lips, teeth barely grazing against your skin. He sucks slightly as he pulls away with each kiss.

Fire, white hot, strikes between your legs. You whimper. “Y-Yondu – please -”

He runs his palm leisurely over your belly in caressing S-shaped strokes. His nails scratch slightly across your navel, with every passing second growing closer to where you need him to touch you most. Your breathing is ragged, almost gasping. At last, you feel him bury his fingers in your curls, and let out a gasp.

“Ya always take such good care a’ me, baby,” he breathes against your ear, “Now let me take good care a’ you.” He bites your earlobe slightly as you feel him trace a finger over your wet folds.

You buck, hard. Yondu shifts, trapping you against his side, and seizes your lips in a hard, smoldering kiss as he slides a long digit inside you. You moan loudly against his mouth, but he doesn’t relent, kissing you ruthlessly. He slips the finger in and out repeatedly, driving a little deeper each time. He adds another finger and pumps faster.

A feeling like electricity shoots through your entire body. You clutch at his shoulders. “O-ohh god, Yondu!”

He pulls the fingers back out of you, then raises them to his face; they’re slick and dripping slightly. "Yer so wet fer me already, sugar." He opens his mouth and licks his tongue sensually around the digits. His eyes close in ecstasy. "Damn, ya taste so good." His eyes open and he grins at you. "I think I need to taste ya some more." 

Before you can say a word in response, he's bent his head between your thighs, and you feel his hot, slick tongue press against your folds. 

Yondu closes his eyes, almost laughing as you buck your hips violently towards his open mouth. "Gods baby," he moans, "Yer so damn sweet." He's never tasted anything so sinfully good. He probes everywhere he can, licking up all the juices flowing out of you. He takes his time on his second pass around, noting any specific pleasure points. He finds a small little nub of flesh near the top of your folds, a little deeper in, and pushes against it with the tip of his tongue. 

You cry out in pleasure, rocking forward violently to clutch at his implant. Your touch against it, and your sudden reaction convince him to continue teasing the spot. He swirls his tongue around the nib, flicking against it and sweeping around it in small circles. 

You're rocking against him hard now; your breaths are heavy and erratic. "Oh god, Yondu please, d-don't stop, please don't stop..."

The scents you're giving off, your voice, the touch on his implant - it's too much. He gets up abruptly, noting in satisfaction your whimper at his absence. "I can't take it no more honey," he growls, "I gotta have ya."

"Th-then take me, Yondu."

His lips pull back in a half grin, half snarl. "Fuck yes," he hisses, tearing off his jeans and boxers in one go. He kneels before you then, his erection pulsing slightly. 

You stare as he reaches down and curls his fingers around his dick, stroking needily. He's big. Bigger than you thought, and thicker too. The dark purple head is narrow and smooth, a bead of precum glistening at its tip. The rest of the shaft, however, is covered in purple, overlapping, diamond-shaped ridges of varying sizes, the growing larger closer to his torso. Their shape reminds you of snake scales, or the texture on a pine cone, but as you reach a finger towards him, and drag a few fingers back along its surface, you discover that they're not hard at all. They're firm but soft, and lift as you pull your finger back, revealing a much lighter blue color underneath. Each one is dripping with precum.

Yondu lets out a shaking breath. "Ya just wait, darlin'. Them ridges is gonna make ya scream. Every time I pull back, they are gonna rub against yer insides." He shifts closer to you, resting his cock between your breasts. "So," he purrs, gazing down at you, "How does it compare to Terrans’? Bigger?"

You stare at it, subconsciously licking your lips, then you look up at him and give him a sultry smile. “Definitely.”

He smiles in satisfaction, then gasps as you lean forward and take him in your mouth. You tap your tongue against the head, sucking slightly, pulling back so you feel the small ridges at the end pull against your lips.

He throws his head back. “Oh shit, yes!” His fingers dig into your hair, gripping the back of your head to keep you in place.

You run your tongue over his ridges, and use the tip to lick underneath one of the larger ones. He jerks against you, his breathing ragged. “D-darlin’,” he pants, “I gotta – I gotta have ya. Now. _Right now.”_ With a groan, he pulls away from you, and shoves you back against the pillows. He forces his mouth against yours, taking your wrists in his hands to pin them above your head. Rolling his hips, he grinds against you, and you moan loudly against his mouth. “I want ya, [y/n],” he pleads against your lips.

“I w-want-” you gasp, and moan again as he moves harder against you. His cock is slick with precum and the juices coating your folds.

“Tell me whatcha want,” he rasps.

“You,” you reply, your breath suddenly short. He’s so strong, so rugged and just – magnificent. It’s the only word you can think of to describe this powerful man on top of you. “I want you, Yondu. Please.”

He lowers his head to your neck, his implant resting against your temple, and you feel the scrape of his teeth. He shifts his hips so his cock rubs even more insistently against your folds. “Y’want me inside ya?” Stars burst before your eyes as he suddenly bites down hard on your shoulder. Then he’s sucking, licking the sore spot. “Issat what ya want? Ya wan me to fuck ya, sugar?”

“Yes, oh, Yondu please! Please!”

He raises himself so that he can see your face. It’s taking every ounce of self-control he has not to slam himself into you. Shifting his legs, he grips his cock and lines himself up.

Your breaths are coming in short, shallow gasps as you watch him guide himself inside you. You tremble as you feel his shaft penetrate you, and throw your head back as he moves in deeper.

Yondu watches your face and body language carefully, easing back when it looks like you might be in pain. But at last, he feels you relax around him, and you let out a sweet, moaning sigh. “Gods, baby,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Yer so damn _tight.”_ Letting go of your wrists, he settles down on top of you and wraps you in his arms, holding you against his chest. He rests his lips against yours as he begins to move in and out of you.

You hold him tightly, your arms wound around his neck as he kisses you. You feel the ridges on his cock drag against your walls as he pulls back, and you gasp. He pushes in, then pulls out again, slowly. “Ohhh, Yondu. Ohh, oh god.” You bury your head against his shoulder, digging your nails into his back.

“Y-yeah, baby,” he breathes, “Ya like that? Ya like me inside ya?”

“You – you feel so good-” you hesitate, trying to find a suitable pet name, then decide on, “Captain.”

He pauses, then lets out an animalistic noise that’s half snarl, half laugh. He snaps his hips hard against yours, pushing himself in deeper. You cry out in surprise, but it’s silenced by the crash of his lips. The kiss is blistering hot. He bites your lower lip slightly as he pulls back.

“Say somethin’ like that again,” he growls.

“T-take me deeper, Captain.”

“Tha’s it, sugar. Deeper, huh? Ya want me to fuck ya nice an’ hard, baby?” He grins eagerly, and slams into you.

“Ohh yes!”

He moves in and out of you at a rapid pace, gripping your sides as your walls clench down on him.

You feel your climax building, a heated, rushing tingling down to your toes and a tightening in your abdomen. You’re getting close. Just a little more stimulation. You reach down between your bodies to finger your clit, and yelp as he grips your wrist.

“If ya need to be pleasured, I’m gonna do it,” he growls. “Ya jus’ show me where ya wanna be touched.”

You swallow, and nod. Taking his hand, you guide his finger down to the little nub.

Yondu nods vigorously. “This is what I was lickin’ earlier. It got a name, baby?”

“The c-clitoris, or clit,” you whisper.

“Clit,” he repeats, licking his teeth. “How does my baby like her _clit_ touched?”

You try to answer, but he snaps his hips harder into yours, rendering you speechless. After a few gasping breaths, you manage, “In – in circles,” and feel him switch his finger for his thumb to rub in small circular motions.

You nearly scream, arching your back and gripping the pillows around you.

“Gods yes!” Yondu shouts, encouraging you. He thrusts as deep as he can go inside you, feeling you clench down tighter, your walls throbbing against him. “Yes! Tha’s it! Come fer me, baby!” he howls. “Come over my cock! _Fuck yes! Come!”_

At the last word, it’s all over. You clamp down tightly on him as you orgasm, your back arching as your entire body reaches euphoria. You cry out his name, and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard; half scream, half moan, your hands white-knuckled in the sheets. He stares down at you, still thrusting his hips into yours. He holds out as long as he can, relishing in the throbbing pulses of your walls against his engorged length. “Sh-shit! Yes!” he gasps. “I – I’m gonna –” He pulls out and finishes on your stomach, light purple cum streaming over your skin.

With a gasp, he almost falls on top of you – he braces himself up at the last minute, resting his forehead against yours. Sweat drips from his chest down onto yours; his breaths are hot and heavy. Shudder after shudder racks his body; his hands clench and unclench the sheets around you. “Shiiit that was good,” he moans, opening his eyes. A soft gasp escapes his lips as he sees you staring back at him with half-lidded eyes, your face flushed, lips swollen.

He grabs some tissue off the bedside table and cleans you up, then lowers himself to his elbows, running his fingertips gently through your hair. “Gods,” he says softly, “Lookit ya, baby.” He kisses your forehead. “Ya know, I seen thousands a’ stars of every color, seen supernovas and auroras, seen moons and planets that would take yer breath away. But sweetheart,” he says, and his voice drops to a whisper, “I ain’t never seen anythin’ near as beautiful as you.” He leans down and touches trembling lips to yours.

The kiss is the gentlest you’ve shared yet, but it grows deeper and more passionate and more full of love that you’d ever thought possible. You move your lips to his neck, drawing him down against you. Between your legs, you feel his erection press into your thigh; he’s already hard again for you.

You blush deeply, and reach back to grab a firm butt cheek, pulling slightly towards you. Yondu gets the message, and you feel the head of his cock press against your folds, gliding gently inside your now-sensitive opening.

His scent, his warm hands, his breaths, the feel of him inside you – everything suddenly overwhelms you, and you feel tears slip down your cheeks as you kiss him.

“Oh. Oh, baby.” He rubs your tears away with his thumbs, then kisses them away with feather-light lips. “My sweet, darlin’ doctor,” he whispers.

The fact that he’s calling you _his_ causes your heart to flutter in a way you’ve never felt. You reach for him, and he wraps you in his strong arms, lifting you into a sort of sitting position, cradling you against his chest. He kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, your neck.

“Now jus’ stay still for a minute,” he breathes. “I gotta concentrate.”

“On what—oh. Ohh.” Inside you, his ridges are moving, sweeping up and down seemingly of their own accord, like dozens of tiny fingers stroking your walls all at once. “Ahh…ohh, ohh Yondu, it feels so good.”

He hums in satisfaction as you rock against him, expanding and contracting his ridges. He’s never had gentle sex like this; it’s a whole new world of pleasures that he’s glad he gets to share with you. Still moving his ridges, he begins to slowly lift you and pull you back down against him.

You love this gentle side that Yondu is showing, but as you feel your orgasm growing again, you feel that you need more of him. You take his face in your and push your tongue into his mouth. He sucks at it slightly, lowering you back against the mattress again. You stroke along the top of his head, along the base of his fin. He gasps and breaks his mouth away, swearing something into your shoulder as he begins to thrust faster. He groans as you roll your hips in a circular motion against his. “Gods, I can’t believe y’ain’t done this before, sugar. Ya know exactly how to move…ya feel so damn good squeezin’ around me.” He caresses your skin, fondling your breasts and pinching, squeezing the nipples between his rough fingers.

You let out a small, whimpering cry. “Y-Yondu….”

Thrusting with continually faster motions, Yondu shifts your legs, lifting your ankles over his shoulders so he can move deeper inside you. He’s rewarded with a sharp cry of pleasure. Your moans are coming more frequently now, shorter, deeper, more guttural, your nails digging into his biceps as you desperately cling to him. He reaches down and rubs a thumb in circles around your slick clit.

He feels you’re getting close, tightening around him. He throws his head back at a particularly strong pulse of your walls, teeth flashing. “Ohh fuck, yes!”

“C-come, come inside me,” you gasp, “Please, Yondu! _Please!”_

 _“Oh gods, yes! [y/n]!”_ With a final, harsh snap of his hips and a rough rub at your clit, you bear down on him so tightly that he almost blacks out.

Your second orgasm racks your body. Your toes curl, fingers digging into his skin. He yells something incoherent and swears, and you feel him spill into you, hot streams of cum pumping into you, filling you up.

“Ohh fuck, oh fuck yes! Yes, yes… [y/n]….” His voice trails off into a whisper, and he shudders, gripping your calves with tight, trembling fingers. Slowly, he pulls out of you, nearly falling backwards in exhaustion.

As the last throes of ecstasy ride through your body, you let out a long, satisfied sigh, casting a tired, half-lidded gaze to his.

He stares back, smiling. “Did I wear ya out, darlin’?”

You giggle sleepily, and nod.

He chuckles, then sighs happily as he grabs some more tissue. He stares at his handiwork for a moment. “Gods, I love the way ya look with my cum leakin’ out yer beautiful pussy. Ya naughty girl, askin’ me to come inside ya. It’s all over yer legs, sugar.”

You blush deeply and hide your face behind your hands, causing him to laugh.

He gently cleans you up, then presses a single, light kiss to your sensitive folds. He climbs up the bed to lay alongside you, pulling you against him. He pulls your hands away from your face and traces the edge of your cheek with a finger. “So, how was yer first time?”

Your face is already flushed, but you blush a little deeper and smile shyly. You cup his cheek, stroking your thumb along his beard. “You were amazing.”

He smirks. “That all?”

You giggle and reach for a pillow to smack him with, but your arm falls limp halfway. "Amazing, incredible and perfect. How about that."

"I guess that'll have to do," he says with a smile, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. "C'mere, sweetheart." He shifts so you can rest your head in the crook of his shoulder. Your body is limp with exhaustion, warm from your love making, but quickly cooling. He pulls the sheet from the foot of the bed to cover you, and you snuggle against him, hugging an arm around his stomach. He rests his cheek against the top of your head, and watches as your breathing evens out and you relax completely. You're soon asleep, and his eyes are drooping, soon to follow you. But he wants to stay awake, wants to treasure this moment as long as he can. He runs his fingers lightly through your hair, combing out the small tangles. He kisses the top of your head softly, pausing to deeply breathe in your scent. It's such a comforting smell, it makes him feel at ease, and at the same time, somehow makes him feel unstoppable and strong. He'd do anything to protect you, anything to make you happy. He bends his head slightly to make sure you're really asleep. You are; your face is peaceful and relaxed, cheek smushed slightly where it leans against his shoulder, lips parted slightly as you breathe. 

"Honey, I think I love ya," he murmurs, gazing down at you, brushing a lock of hair from your cheek. You don't stir, and that's just as well. He can feel his heart breaking already at the thought of leaving you. He swallows the feeling back, nestles down into the pillows, and with one last soft kiss to your forehead, falls asleep with you safe in his arms.

* * *

Yondu awakes with a jolt. He scans the room, wondering what might have woken him, then slowly relaxes when he doesn't hear or see anything. The moonlight has shifted across the wall, so you've both been asleep probably a couple hours. He sighs, looking down at your sleeping face. You’re breathing steadily, your lips still swollen from his kisses, your hair is disheveled and splayed over the pillows. He brushes a lock of hair from your cheek, and lets his eyes drink in your naked body. He feels a searing bolt of heat rush to his face and straight down between his legs at the memory of you gasping and moaning under him. He can still taste you on his tongue. He shifts, glancing down at himself. He's hard again. He smirks, and trails his fingers a little more roughly through your hair, intending to wake you up. Maybe he can convince to you to go another round.

You stir, make a satisfied little hum, and stretch your arms, letting them fall over his chest. Your love-glazed eyes open to meet his, a smile on your lips. 

He's about to speak when there's a loud creak somewhere below. He sits up straight in the bed, looking at the door. You sit up too, pulling at the blankets to cover yourself. "What was that?" you whisper after a few moments.

His shoulders release their tension slightly. "Probably noth-" There's another creak - and another. The stairs.

Yondu leaps out of bed, landing as softly as a cat on the floor, and yanks on his jeans. He tosses your clothes to you, and you slip your pajamas on. You climb over the blankets to grab Yondu’s hand. Your eyes lock, and he nods, easing you to the floor. He leans in. "Stay behind me," he breathes in your ear. Shielding his mouth with his hand, he whistles lowly. From its place on his bedside table, the arrow shudders, lights flickering. Yondu’s eyes narrow, and he whistles a little more insistently. The arrow lights up completely, and rising, slips behind his back to hide itself.

He opens the door as wide as it will go before it creaks, and you both slip through the narrow gap. There's a dark figure creeping up the stairs.

Yondu whistles loudly. The arrow goes zooming downwards, and the figure instantly drops, covering its head with its arms.

"Cap'n! Cap, it's me!" the figure shouts in a drawling accent.


	16. Don't Leave Me This Way

Yondu flips the light switch, and a tall, skinny man with a mohawk straightens from where he was crouched halfway up the stairs. He blinks in the sudden light, raising a hand to his eyes until his vision adjusts. When he lowers his hand, he looks up and offers a shaky smile. Aside from the outlandish maroon jumpsuit with the knife sheathed over his left shoulder, he looks like a Human – like a Terran. But there's something just slightly off about the way he moves and the bone structure of his face that tells you he isn't.

"Shit, boy!" Yondu says with a laugh, catching the arrow as he flies back to his hand, "I could'a killed ya." 

The man flies up the remaining steps and pulls Yondu into a tight embrace, then his face gathers a blue color and he pulls back swiftly. "Oh - uh - s-sorry, Cap-" he stammers.

"Shut up, son," Yondu says, yanking him back into a one-armed hug. "Whatsa matter, ya worried 'bout me or somethin'?"

The blue flush stays on the man's cheeks, and you realize after a minute that he must have blue blood, and he's blushing. "Well, ya know," he mumbles, "It's so soon after...after everythin'...."

"I know," Yondu replies quietly, squeezing his shoulder. He looks back at you and grins, holding out a hand. "Darlin'! Come here." He grabs your hand as you approach and pulls you to his side. "Sweetheart," he says fondly, "This is Kraglin Obfonteri, my First Mate."

"Oh! Oh, gosh," you smile and extend your hand. He shakes it. "Nice to meet you, I've heard so much about you." His face is weathered, but not old, his expression kindly. His eyes are striking, a crystal clear, blue-grey color. They study you, narrowed in confusion.

"Kraglin, this is [y/n]. She's a doctor - she saved m'neck after I crashed. Been takin' care of me."

His confused expression disappears, replaced by a sweet smile full of silver-capped teeth. He squeezes your hand lightly. "Thanks for lookin' after our Cap'n."

"Of course. Um, Yondu, I'm gonna get a sweatshirt, you want to head downstairs and I'll meet you there?"

"Yeah. This way, Krags."

You walk back to your room, trying to keep a smile on your face, but you fail. Your heart is sinking like an anchor to your feet. His crew has found him at last, and Yondu is going to leave. You blink back sudden tears as you pull the sweatshirt on. As you head down the stairs, trailing after the pair of Ravagers, you hear Yondu talking to Kraglin.

"What took ya so damn long to find me, boy?"

Though spoken in a jesting tone, the words pierce your heart like a spike. He was impatient to get off the planet? Eager to leave you? You stop on the stair, your throat tightening. Your emotions are tumbling every which way. He just had sex with you, and now he's leaving. 

_He was just using me._ The cruel thought comes uninvited into your mind.  _No, no! He wouldn't. He's not like that._ But his earlier words come back to you. _'I shack up with a different woman every port we land in. I can't be tied down in my line a' work.'_

_I was just something to occupy him until his crew got here._ Your breathing picks up, painful in your lungs, as you numbly walk down the stairs to join the Ravagers in the living room. You gasp softly and nearly tear your hand away as Yondu reaches for you, pulling you down to sit next to him on the couch. He throws you a concerned glance when you flinch, and he rubs your shoulder before curling an arm snugly around your waist. You try not to lean into his warm embrace.

"Once we mapped out the trajectory, I figured ya must have gone to Terra," Kraglin is saying from his place on the chair across from the two of you. "So I took a small team, and we been scannin' everywhere and interceptin' transmissions to see if anything matched a description of ya or yer ship. Couple days ago, we got a transmission from the  _Eclector_  that yer arrow had given off a signal. Weren't too precise, but it got us in the general area."

"Did ya come alone?"

"Here, yeah. The rest of 'em is gettin' some shuteye, cloaked in a clearing some few klicks away. I walked here, needed the fresh air. Didn’t expect t’stumble on this place." Kraglin glances at you. "Uh, sorry 'bout yer door. I busted the lock."

"It's okay," you say reflectively. 

"That musta been what woke me," Yondu murmurs, then grins back at Kraglin. "How are the ship an' crew?"

You unintentionally tune the pair out again.  _He doesn't have any use for you anymore. He's going to leave you. You knew this was going to happen. You should have known better than to get involved with him. He used you and he's going to throw you away. Just like Ritchie. Just like Devon._

Yondu strokes your upper thigh with his fingers, and you clench your jaw against building tears.  _He cares about me. No, he lied. It's what he does, he's told you so. He's a Ravager. A liar, a cheater, a thief. He lied about how he feels, he cheated your emotions for sex, and he's stolen your heart so he can break it, put another notch in his belt. He just wanted to get in your pants._

_No, he cares about me. Why would he have divulged all of those things about his past, about himself if he didn't care? He was manipulating you. Telling you what would make you trust him most. It might have all been lies._ You take a sharp breath in, slightly shaking, and you see him glance your way out of the corner of his eye. His gentle touches, his light kisses, his sweet words in his deep throaty voice all flood your mind. You stand up abruptly, and Yondu stops in mid-sentence, staring at you. 

"Honey? Ya okay?"

"I-I'm tired, I'm gonna go to bed." You say the words quickly. If you say too much, if you don't say it fast enough, tears are going to come. You know it.

"Okay," he says uncertainly, eyeing you.

You offer a half-hearted smile to Kraglin, then turn and head towards the stairs. You're a couple steps up when you hear Yondu behind you.

"Darlin', darlin', wait."

You bite your lip, breathing deeply before turning back around to him.

He climbs the stairs until he's only one below you, so you're level with each other's eyes. He takes your hands in his. "Sweetheart, my crew found me,” he says softly. “I'm gonna be leavin' here in the mornin'."

You stare at your feet. If you look at him again, you're going to cry.

"Listen, I - I care about ya, and I was wonderin’ if…hell, what I’m tryin’ to say is… I want ya to come with me, honey.”

Your head jerks back up.  _"What?"_

"Come with me," he repeats, grinning. His smile fades as he watches the anxious line form between your brows. "What's that look fer?"

"I can't go with you!"

He frowns, and shifts nervously on his feet. "What? Why not?"

You whip your hands out of his grasp and throw your arms in the air in exasperation. _"Why not?_ Pick a reason! My life is here, Yondu! My job, my friends, my house - everything I own and have built is here on Earth! I mean, what would I even do up there?" You gesture at the ceiling.

"Same thing ya do now," he says, voice growing tight.  _This ain’t how this was supposed to go._ "Be a doctor, on board my ship. I'm still puttin' a crew together, ya know that. I don't have a medic yet, and ya’d be perfect."

"Yondu, it took me _years_ of study just to know the human body! How could I possibly learn about hundreds of different alien races and do a good job?"

"I'd – I’d get ya what ya need, books n' stuff. Yer smart, ya'd learn it, honey."

"It's not that easy,” you reply, hardly getting the words out now. Your throat is so tight it hurts. “And even if I did - I - I can't, Yondu. I can't." 

"Sweetheart-"

You hold your face in your hands for a second, shaking your head. "Stop, just stop. I can't just go and leave this all behind. I can't."

"[y/n], please. I - I don't want to leave ya." His hands are trembling. 

You lift your hands from your face, and there are tears streaming down your cheeks. "You have to," you choke out.

It feels like he's out in the vacuum of space again. His body seems cold, the breath gone from his lungs, his heart squeezed like it's going to burst into a million pieces. "Darlin', please.  _Please._ ” His voice drops to a whisper. “I need ya."

"Stop,” you cry. “I can't go with you, Yondu. I'm - I'm sorry, I just - I can't." The last words dissolve into a sob, and you turn, running up the stairs to your room.

Yondu follows you up a few stairs, reaching after you, but when he realizes you're not stopping, he drops his hands down to his sides, where they curl into fists. He hears your door slam, and he flinches as if slapped.

After a few moments, Kraglin's soft, hesitant voice breaks the silence. “…Cap’n?” He turns, meets the First Mate's troubled eyes. "Are...are ya all right?"

He tears his gaze away, doesn't want Kraglin to see him like this. "M'fine," he manages, and without another word, throws open the deck door and storms off down the stairs and into the night. 

He couldn’t be farther from fine. No one has worked themselves into his heart the way you have. He walks along the waterside, the frigid wet sand seeping in between his bare toes. He walks, and walks until the cold is too much to bear and he has to stop. He finds himself at the willow grove where you both had the picnic, the day he kissed you for the first time.

His breath leaves him in a choking gasp, and he practically falls to his knees as he sinks against the trunk of a tree. He draws up his legs and crosses his arms over them, hugging them to his chest.  _It wasn't supposed to happen that way. I thought ya would be happy to come with me. I thought ya would be happy to leave yer exhausting job behind. I thought ya cared ‘bout me._

Another choking breath escapes him at this last thought, and he feels a tear slide down his cheek, cold and stinging in the wind off the lake. You're not here to wipe it away this time. "Oh gods, baby," he gasps out loud, burying his face in his hands.  _After everything we've done, after all the time we spent together, it don't mean anythin'? Don't I mean anythin' to ya? All those moments we shared. Those words you spoke to me, they didn't mean nothin'? What made ya feel this way? What's keepin ya here?_  

He knows that's not fair.  _It was selfish, mean a' me to ask ya so suddenly. This is yer homeworld. Terrans ain't used to leavin their planet. I'm askin' ya to give up everything fer me, and it ain't fair a' me. I jus’ don't want to leave ya. I don't. I ain't never gonna find anyone like you again, not if I live a thousand lifetimes. I'd stay here, but I can't. Gods know I wanna, but I can't leave my crew. Kraglin, Quill, I can't leave them again. Not even fer you._

A pair of tears escapes his eyes. He doesn't bother wiping them away. Every word, every smile, every touch floods his memory like the sweetest, most terrible pain.  _I am going to miss ya, sweetheart._  His breath chokes again, this time in a sob.  _I'm gonna miss you so damn much. How am I going to live without ya?_

* * *

Upstairs in your room, your face is buried in your pillow and you're crying harder than you ever remember doing so before. Even the loss of your father and brother didn't seem to hurt as bad as this does. Your chest aches. Every breath burns in your lungs, every tear stings. Your thoughts are hopelessly jumbled and confused. Ever since Kraglin showed up, you'd been trying to convince yourself that Yondu was just using you, like every other man you've dated - but then he asked you to come with him. He didn't want to give you up.

His face when you told him  _no_ flits into your mind. His eyes were so shocked, so full of sadness. He wasn't using you. He cares about you; he told you so. He might even love you.

And you think you love him, too.

The thought makes you sob harder into your pillow. He must hate you now, and you wouldn't blame him.

But you can't just up and leave the  _planet._ You have a life here, and a career that's taken you years of hard work to build. You pause to wipe at your eyes. You're supposed to go back home in a couple days. Another broken sob escapes you at the thought. How can you possibly go back to normal life after all of this?

The thought of going home to an empty house, without Yondu there to greet you after a shift is done, to have meals with and talk to, the thought of being alone, without him, breaks your heart.  _I’ve only known him a few weeks, and I knew all along that he couldn't stay,_ you berate yourself, but the thought does absolutely nothing to ease the pain. If anything, it makes it worse. To know someone such a short time and have such a deep connection with them has to mean something. The tears just keep flowing.  _Why did I let myself fall for him like this? Oh Yondu, I don't want you to go. Please don’t go._

You cry long into the night, and when you finally fall into sleep, it's from sheer exhaustion and is rife with horrible dreams.


	17. Fight Fire with Fire

Yondu wakes the next morning, unhappy and unrested. He'd torn the sheets and blankets off the bed last night and slept on the bare mattress - everything smelled like you. His heart is as heavy as a stone in his chest, and willing himself to get out of bed feels like one of the hardest things he’s ever done. The light is dim coming through the window; the sun is just beginning to rise.

He sticks his arrow in his jeans pocket, and packs up his things in a cardboard box he found in the closet - a photograph and some movies you had found for Quill, a music player you'd ordered for Kraglin, and lastly, the little bulldog bobble head from your house. He presses on its head with a finger, and swallows back a lump in his throat at the remembrance of your words. ' _My gift to you. To remember me by, when you're gone_.' You'd said it with such a sweet smile, and so much has happened since that day. He takes a trembling breath.

Then he sets his jaw, grinding his teeth together. He narrows his eyes and steels his heart against thoughts of you.  _Dammit all to hell, get a hold of yerself. Ya should have known she'd never really want an ugly, old Ravager like you. Better to just forget her._ He slams the bobblehead on the dresser, and opens the bedroom door to leave. He takes one step out into the hall, and falters on the stair.

After hesitating a few minutes more, he backtracks into the room and places the bulldog tenderly in the box. As hard as he might try, he knows he's never going to forget you, and he doesn't want to. Bending, he sweeps one of the sheets off the floor and raises it to his face, touching the soft fabric lightly to his cheek. He breathes in deeply, trying to pick out and memorize each scent that he associates with you. Tears gather in his eyes, and he squeezes them shut.

He lets the sheet fall from his fingers and walks slowly down the stairs, his eyes drifting unbidden in the direction of your room. His feet move towards it. He wants to stay, wants to climb into your bed and hold you, so you wake in his arms.

Swallowing, he forces his gaze away again and goes down the stairs where Kraglin is waiting by the deck door.

* * *

You wake groggy, your eyes puffy and crusted with dried tears. There's a dull ache in your head, and grief weighs heavy on your frame. You don’t get out of bed right away, drawing up your knees and resting your forehead on them. You tangle your fingers and pull at it in despair.

_What's keeping me here?_   _An exhausting job that takes up all my time? Friends that I don't really see? I have no family. No boyfriend. And everything else is just material._ Your words from last night flash into your mind, and you sniffle.  _'My life is here, Yondu!'_ You let out a whimper at the memory of his face and dig the heels of your palms into your eyes.  _My life is here._

_No it isn’t._

You lift your head, wiping your eyes. 

_No, my life isn't here. It’s where my heart is. It's with him. It IS him._

You gasp at the realization, and glance out the window - it's early, just past dawn.  _There's still time!_ _I can make this right!_

You leap out of bed, yanking on a pair of jeans.  _Hurry, hurry! There's still time!_ You don't bother with socks, and just leave your pajama shirt and sweatshirt on. You’re sure your hair looks like a rat’s nest, but you don’t care as you burst out the door. You dash down the hall towards Yondu's room. You knock on his door, but it swings open. The bed is empty, the sheets bundled on the floor. His belongings are gone off the dresser and side table. "Yondu?" you call, hoping he's in the bathroom. There's no answer.

Your mouth goes dry. Your stomach drops.  _Oh no. No, no, no!_ You turn frantically, rushing down the stairs. "Yondu?" you shout. You turn so hastily on the landing that your feet almost slip out from under you. "Yondu?" you cry his name, but there's no answer. The only sound you hear is the quacking of some ducks out on the lake.

"No! _No,_   _Yondu!"_  Your heart feels like it’s shattering into a million pieces as you race through the cabin towards the front door. You desperately pray that he's out front, waiting for his crew.

Just as your hand reaches the door knob, you hear the deck door crash open behind you. "[y/n]?!" Yondu's voice yells into the cabin.

It's the most wonderful sound you've ever heard. You turn back with a whimper, tearing across the floor towards him. "Yondu!"

He staggers back as you throw yourself into his arms, burying your face in his chest as relieved sobs escape you. 

"Darlin', darlin'! What's wrong?" He pulls you away and cups your face in his hands. "Are ya all right? What happened?"

"N-nothing," you sniffle through your tears, "I - I just thought - I thought you'd left."

"Oh," he whispers. "Oh, sweetheart," he says, caressing a tear away with a thumb, "Without sayin’ goodbye? I wouldn't do that to ya." He folds you in his arms, breathing in the sweet scent of your hair, for what may be the last time. He squeezes his eyes shut at the thought.

"Yondu, I'm sorry.”

He forces his heart to harden against the words, and pushes you away stiffly. "I know."

"No!" you say, gripping his hands in desperation, "I'm sorry for what I said yesterday. I - I didn't have time to think. But I've thought about it, and if - if your offer still stands, I'd like to come with you."

Everything within him seems to stop. His heart forgets a beat. "What?"

"I want to come with you,” you repeat, “I mean…if you still want me. If not, I understand.” You hang your head. “I hurt you, and I know an apology probably isn’t good enough, but…." You ramble on, and miss the unspoken exchange between Yondu and Kraglin, who is leaning in through the deck door. The First Mate walks briskly away, but you continue to talk. "I don't blame you if you don't want me anymore, I just-"

Your voice is cut off as Yondu crushes you against him, pressing his lips hard to yours. He traps you against the nearest wall, his hands running all over you as he kisses you hungrily. "Baby-" he says between kisses. "I thought-" He sucks at your lip. "I thought I'd lost you. I thought I was gonna lose my mind." You pull away from him slightly and press your head deep into the crook of his shoulder so he just holds you.

He wraps his arms around your back and holds you firm against his chest, a large hand cradling the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. "I was really hopin' you'd change yer mind," he whispers, rocking you slightly. “But I didn’t dare believe that ya would.” After a few minutes, he holds you out again, hands on your shoulders. “Darlin, ya say ya want to come with me, but I – I jus’ want ya to be happy. I don't wanna force ya into somethin' ya don't want. Ya gotta do what's best fer you." The words nearly cut his throat as he says them, but it's true. He cares for you, and his heart would break if you were unhappy with him.

"I want to go with you," you say, and he grins, goes in for another kiss. He stops as you place fingers against his lips. "On two conditions."

He almost smiles at this, except that your voice is low and there's a frown on your face. "Okay," he says solemnly.

"One, that if you don't want me anymore, you'll be upfront about it? You won't cheat on me if you want someone else?"

His throat tightens at the pain in your eyes, and he nods as he runs fingers through your hair in what he hopes is a reassuring gesture. “I don't see that happenin', baby, but okay. Two?"

"If it does happen, you'll drop me off back home?"

He nods slowly. "I promise, sweetheart," he whispers. He pulls you against him again, feeling a shuddering sigh go through your body as you wrap your arms around his waist. He holds you for several minutes, concentrating on your scent and the cool feel of your body against his. "Why don'tcha get a shower and gather some a yer stuff up? Yer gonna have to make it quick - m'crew will be here in an hour or so."

You wipe your eyes and nod, smiling through the last of your tears.

* * *

Among your clothes and toiletries, you pack a few photos of your family, and your brother's medal. You think of a few things that are back home that you wish you could bring with you, but you shrug. You can always get another, or something similar - or better - out in space. You shake your head.  _I'm gonna be a space pirate doctor._ _This is crazy. This is_ so _crazy. But it’d be crazier for me to deny how I feel about him._  You smile as Yondu's laughing face flits into your mind, and you feel a pleasant warmth spread through your body. 

All the particulars - your house, your job, your bills, your car - all of the practical, logical things you  _should_ be thinking about - you push to the back of your mind to worry about at another time. You’re leaving the planet, going into outer space, to live on a starship with an alien pirate captain. That’s enough to occupy your mind for the moment.

You concentrate on keeping calm, ticking off items on the packing list in your mind.  _I think I've got everything I need for now._   _Just need to grab the medical bag downstairs._ You're just zipping up the duffel when you hear Kraglin's voice shouting. 

You jump on your bed, to the window that overlooks the deck where the First Mate is running from one end to the other at top speed. His voice is muffled through the glass, but it’s frantic. _"Cap'n!_ It's-"

There's a sizzle, a sharp noise like cracking glass, and a jet of white light strikes Kraglin in the upper thigh. With a cry, he goes down. Blue blood spatters the deck floor.

A large figure in green and black armor appears in your line of vision and advances towards the First Mate, holding some kind of gun. Kraglin clutches his thigh and drags himself away, fumbling for a something holstered at his leg. The intruder fires again; the white light hits the deck just shy of Kraglin’s hip, leaving a scorch on the wood. A warning shot.

Yondu careens around the corner, lips pursed. He whistles, and you see the lights on the arrow flicker in his hand - but nothing happens. He freezes, a look of horror in his eye as stares down at the arrow. He whistles again - but it doesn't move. He thrusts it back in his pocket and balls his fists, dropping into a low fighting stance.

"Run, Cap'n!" Kraglin yells.

"No! Ain't leavin' ya!" You watch as Yondu backs up, shielding the First Mate as much as he can with his own body. Then his head whips to the left, looking from whence he had come. There must be another one flanking from that side.

Heart beating fit to burst, you leap from the bed and race down the hallway, pounding down the stairs. You hug the wall, so you aren't seen by the intruders through the deck door, and once you get to the hall closet, you run your fingers along the top shelf. Your hand closes on your father's shotgun.

Scrambling with the box of shells, you load and cock it. The cold click sounds loud and threatening in the empty cabin. You push your way out the front door, as quietly as you're able, and turn onto the deck, shotgun braced firmly against the crook of your shoulder. You’ve never shot another living thing, but your father and brother made sure you knew how to shoot well, in case you ever had the need to defend yourself.

Your mouth is unbearably dry, your heart racing as you creep around the corner.  _Deep breaths. Focus. You have to save Yondu and Kraglin._  You almost draw back in fear as you see a second invader moving towards Yondu, his back to you, the same kind of gun in his hand as the first. He’s larger than you anticipated, broader, and taller – nearly 7 feet if you had to guess.

"It's me ya want," Yondu is snarling, "Leave him outta this."

"Obfonteri has a pretty price on his head, it'll compensate us for all the trouble you’ve caused,” the figure says with a gritty laugh.  “Thought it’d be easy finding you after we threw you off course, but then I’ve heard you always were a sly one.”

The invader shifts slightly to one side, and Yondu glimpses you past his arm. The Captain’s eyes grow wide, and he whirls, dropping to the ground to cover Kraglin's head. 

Your brother's words come back to you.  _"Focus on the target. Breathe."_ And your father's.  _"Squeeze. Don't pull, don't jerk. Slow and steady."_

The intruder begins to turn, raising his weapon as he goes. You let out a breath, and squeeze the trigger. There's a deafening blast, and the gun recoils violently against your shoulder. You stagger back slightly, but keep the gun level. You hit the invader square in the chest. The deck is sprayed with blue blood so dark that it's almost black.

As soon as you fired, Yondu yanked Kraglin into his arms. Though the First Mate is taller, Yondu dwarfs him in sheer girth. He dashes towards you, and you yank open the door. "Get inside!"

"Darlin'-!"

"I got this, take care of Kraglin!"

He makes a noise of concern in his throat, eyes wide with concern, but does he as you ask, and ducks into the cabin. 

At the end of the deck, you see the other figure peek his head past the corner, and draw back quickly as you raise your gun at him. 

"Relinquish your weapon, Terran," comes his snarling voice. "Hand over the Centaurian, and no harm will come to you."

You back down the front steps as he talks, preparing to circle around the other side of the deck. If there's one advantage you have here, it's knowledge of the territory. "You can go to hell! I'm not giving him up!" you shout back, hoping to keep him talking. _I’m not giving him up again._

"Don't be a fool. Turn Yondu Udonta in, or I will kill you."

On the opposite side of the cabin, you run down the rocky slope to the beach, and bending low, creep up the stairway. Kraglin's attacker is nowhere to be seen. He must have turned the corner to look for you.

Through the deck door, you glimpse Yondu's face for a moment over the kitchen counter, and your eyes meet. You motion for him to get down. He rises instead, and moves towards you. He's shouting something, but you can't quite make it out. He points wildly behind you.

A movement out of the corner of your eye attracts your attention, and you whirl.

The intruder snuck around the back, as you did, and came up the stairs behind you. He was quiet - you didn't hear a single noise from him. There's an explosive pain in the side of your head, and darkness claims your vision - but only for a few seconds. When you come to, you're laid out on your back, the shotgun still in your hands. The invader is bending over you, reaching for your gun. 

Just as his fingers touch it, Yondu flings open the deck door. _"Don't ya fuckin' touch her!"_

The split-second distraction is all you need. In one, swift motion, you raise your gun, tuck it back against your shoulder, and fire. 

Your enemy's head explodes all over the deck. What's left of his body falls backwards, and you scramble away, scrubbing blood and gore from your face.

"[y/n]!" Yondu cries, falling to his knees to gather you into his arms, "Honey, honey, lookit me. Ya hurt?" He sweeps the hair from your face to get a better look, and you flinch. He grinds his teeth, turning your head to the left. Your right temple hurts. Reaching up, you touch it, and your fingers come away red.

Yondu turns a burning gaze of hatred to the dead body of your attacker. "Damn fuckin' bastards!"

"Yondu, are there more?" you ask, struggling to your feet.

"Not yet, these were jus' scouts. But we gotta get outta here - Kraglin got a transmission from the ground crew - the  _Eclector_  spotted one of their motherships hidin' behind yer moon. We gotta go _now.”_

"What about Kraglin? He can't walk!"

"Yer gonna have to drive us to the rendezvous. The crew stayed put after they got the transmission, stayed cloaked."

"No, Yondu! That’s not what I mean - Kraglin got hit in the thigh! It might have hit the femoral artery! I know we don't have time, but we've got to do something. He might bleed to death. Look, if we don't have time to stitch him up, then we have to cauterize the wound."

Yondu nods. "Yer right. Jus' tell me what ya need me to do, darlin'."

"Get a belt around his thigh to-"

"Did that."

"Okay, good. Then I want you to cut off his pant leg, and get a cold wet washcloth full of ice cubes ready for me."

Yondu heads into the kitchen, where Kraglin is slumped on the floor against one of the bottom cupboards. While he attends to the First Mate, you grab your medical bag from the hall closet, and retrieve the alcohol to sterilize a metal spatula. One it's sterilized, you place it over the stovetop flame, heating it until it's hot but not glowing. 

You bend down to Kraglin. He's got a tightly-rolled washcloth clenched between his teeth. 

Yondu kneels down next to him. "I'm sorry son, this is all my fault. If I hadn't gone off by myself...I thought I had my arrow workin', but guess it ain't as fixed as I thought. I'm sorry, Krags." Kraglin shakes his head and mumbles something against the washcloth. He reaches for Yondu's hand. The Captain grasps it tightly, and pulls the First Mate's head to rest against the crook of his neck. "It's okay son, yer gonna be fine. Had a lot worse than this, ain't ya?"

Kraglin nods, cracking a smile, then squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a short muffled scream as you press against the wound with the spatula in quick, short motions. "Got it." You press the cold washcloth filled with ice against his wound, and hold it there, before covering the area with tea tree oil and wrapping it in gauze.

Yondu takes the washcloth from Kraglin's mouth, and the First Mate sits there, panting, beads of sweat rolling down his face and nose.

"You did great, Kraglin,” you say, patting his shoulder softly. “Once we're safe, I'll take a better look and make sure it heals up nice for you.”

"Th-thanks, Doc," he pants.

You smile. "Doc. I like that." You get to your feet, and find your legs are shaking. "Um, I - I'm gonna grab my stuff," you say, swallowing hard. Now that the immediate medical problem has been handled, the reality of what you've just done is starting to sink in. "I'll be back down in - in a minute."

As you run up the stairs, Kraglin exchanges glances with Yondu. "She looked a lil' pale," the First Mate says weakly. "Kinda like Quill does 'fore he gets sick."

Yondu throws a worried glance in the direction you went, and gets to his feet. "Ya stay here, boy. I'll be right back." He flies up the steps, and as he approaches, he hears you retching in the bathroom. "Shit." He tentatively peeks in; you’re hunched over the toilet bowl, shoulders shaking with sobs.

He spies a cup on the counter, and fills it up with water. "Here, honey."

With a sniffle and a trembling hand, you reach for the cup. You rinse out your mouth a few times, drain the rest, and flush the toilet. Closing the lid, you collapse onto it. Yondu pries the cup from your clenched and shaking hands, and refills it, hands it back. As you sip at it, he gets a warm wet washcloth to clean your face.

"Ya okay, darlin'?" he asks softly, wiping some blood from your cheek.

You shake your head. "I just - I just killed two people."

Yondu pauses, and takes your face between his hands. "[y/n], lookit me." You raise tear-filled eyes to his. "Ya know what they were?"

You shake your head, wiping at one of your eyes.

"Kree."

Your eyes widen. "K-Kree? You mean the ones that-"

"That enslaved me? Yeah. Still tryin' to get me back after all these years. No matter what they told ya, they would have killed ya, and they would have killed Kraglin. And they would have captured me, which would'a been worse than dyin'." He runs his fingers through your hair. "Honey, ya saved our lives. Okay?  _Ya saved our lives._  Don't mean it don't hurt, that it ain't gonna haunt ya, but ya did the right thing."

You wipe all the tears from your face and taking a deep breath, nod. You pull your hair into a ponytail and get to your feet. Crossing into the bedroom, you swing your duffel bag over your shoulder. "I'm ready, let's go."

Yondu grabs your hand and leads you out of the room.


	18. Let's Go

Yondu stuffs his little cardboard box of belongings into your duffel, which you carry as he supports Kraglin. He tucks the First Mate securely in the front passenger seat, and slides into the backseat behind him.

You fumble with the keys to lock the door and remember that the lock is broken from when Kraglin came in last night. You pause for a minute, staring up at the structure that has been your second home for your entire life. Your swallow as a breeze comes to you off the lake, with it the scent of pine and the sound of the waves. You bite your lip hard and run to the car without looking back.

Tires kicking up gravel, you peel down the drive, taking directions from Kraglin. You keep to the back roads, passing houses of neighbors that you associated with over the years.  _I'm leaving my planet._  You start to breathe fast, and a tear slips down your cheek. You feel Yondu's large, warm hand fix itself over your shoulder and squeeze gently.

"Yer gonna be fine, sweetheart," he whispers. "I'll take care a' ya."

You wipe the tear away and smile at him in the rearview mirror. "I know." You glance at Kraglin. "How're you doing?"

"Be better when we're on board," the First Mate manages, and tries to give you a smile, but it shifts into a grimace as you hit a crack in the road. He looks down at his wrist, where a watch-like device is strapped, and his head snaps up. "Turn here!" he cries, pointing right.

"Hold on!" You grit your teeth as you jerk the vehicle off the road and into the woods. The car lurches as you drive over dead branches and stones, swerving to avoid the trees. Kraglin goes pale as you hit a nasty bump and clutches his leg.

"Sorry," you say, biting your lip. "I'm trying to avoid them."

He nods, swallowing. "It's- it's okay, Doc. About 300 meters ahead, should be a clearin'."

Per his direction, the trees begin to thin, and suddenly give way to a meadow. You slam on the brakes.

Several people dressed in the same maroon as Kraglin turn weapons your way.

"Out of the vehicle!" a broad-chested, orange-skinned male with buzzed black hair booms. "Hands where I can see them!"

You hurriedly put the vehicle in park and raise your hands.

"Y'all stand down!" Yondu snarls, flinging the door open and slamming it behind him. "That's an order."

Instantly, all weapons are lowered, and a few of them tap their fists against the left side of their chest in some sort of salute; an action that Yondu reciprocates.

"Ya'll ready to take off?" you hear him ask. One of the Ravagers nods. "Good. We gotta beat the Kree outta here." Backtracking, Yondu opens your door, and holds out his hand. "Ready, baby? Don't be afraid."

You take a deep breath.  _First step into my new life. I can do this. Especially if he's with me,_  you think with a glance into his ruby eyes. You slip your hand into his, and he helps you out of the car, then pulls your bags from the backseat. 

You go around to help Kraglin, but Yondu stops you, catching your upper arm. "No," he says quietly.

"What? Why? He needs help."

"He can't look weak in front a' the crew," he murmurs. "Let him move on his own. If he really needs help, he'll ask for it. It’s somethin' y'all have to get used to."

You gnaw on your lower lip, but nod.

Kraglin jumps out of the passenger seat on one leg and shuts the door behind him. He takes a few steps forward, limping slightly, but stands straight, one hand resting against the hood of your car for support. Yondu stands behind him and seems to spot someone. "Nillgrac!"

"Yessir!" a fuzzy blue Ravager with compound eyes says, jogging up.

"Who's piloting?"

"That'd be Kraglin,” he says, with a nod at the First Mate, “Luggh and myself, sir. Although Ryx was standing in for Kraglin at the moment."

"Good. There room for three more in the  _Cawl_?"

"Yessir, it's only Ryx in there." he says, and offers Yondu an arm brace with a small screen built into it. Yondu buckles it over his left wrist.

"Good. Kraglin and [y/n], you come with me," Yondu buckles the brace over his arm and strides forward. The two of you follow, Kraglin pale but surprisingly steady on his feet. "Ryx, this is the Cap'n."

A female voice comes over the tiny speaker. _"Welcome back, sir."_

"Uncloak the ship. Me, Kraglin and our new medic are coming aboard."

_"Aye sir."_

The air in front of you shimmers, wavers like a mirage, and a ship comes into view - much like the one that Yondu had crashed, but bigger. There's a humming noise, and a swirl of light erupts from the underside of the ship, swirling in a vortex. You jump backwards but feel Yondu's hand rest at the small of your back. "You first, boy," Yondu says, and Kraglin moves to stand under the ship. "Ryx, be ready to receive Kraglin. He got shot."

There's a quiet noise at first, which could either be a small cry of distress or a crackle on the com - it's difficult to tell. _"Aye sir. Standing by."_

You gasp as Kraglin stands under the light and is pulled from the ground gently, floating in the air and into a circular hatch on the underside of the ship. It closes temporarily, then opens again.

"You next, darlin'. I'll be right behind ya," Yondu says. He takes your bags and slings them over his shoulder.

You swallow and walk towards the vortex, then turn and gaze around you. The trees are cascades of greens, yellows, oranges and reds; the grass is just starting to lose its color below your feet. You see a speckled oval stone by your right foot, and pick it up, running your thumb over the smooth surface, and stick it in your pocket. The sky is bright blue, studded with fluffy white clouds. A breeze picks up and stirs your hair.

You wonder if this is the last time you'll ever stand on Earth again, and feel tears sting the corners of your eyes.  As you tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, your eyes meet Yondu's. His gaze is questioning, fearful, sad. You reach forward and squeeze his hand with a smile. You take a deep breath and let it out. "Here we go."

He smiles back, face flooding with relief. "Keep yer arms tucked in, sweetheart. Stay calm, don't struggle against it." You nod, and Yondu raises his wrist. "Ryx, prepare to receive the Doc."

_"Standing by."_

You step into the vortex, letting go of Yondu's hand. You feel your hair picked up off your shoulders, and the hood of your coat lifts from your back. Your breath catches as your stomach drops, and you feel a slight tug in the area of your navel as your body lifts off the ground. Your feet pedal the air slightly, but you close your eyes and take a couple deep breaths and stay still as you're weightlessly drawn into the ship. Your head clears the large circular opening, and you're greeted by the sight of a short, curvy four-armed woman with light purple skin. Her head is bald except for a shock of white hair down the middle, gathered up in back, and her ears are slightly pointed, pierced with multiple hoops. Her face is covered in freckles, and there are tattoos around her eyes, nose and lips. 

"Hi," you say nervously.

"So, you're the new medic," she says with a frown, following your face with her eyes as you rise into the ship. They're orange, with a bright yellow band around her oblong pupil. She looks you over and doesn't seem impressed.

The hatch closes underneath you, and you drop a marginal distance to the floor. "That's right. I'm [y/n]. Nice to meet you." You extend a hand and she stares at it with narrowed eyes.

"Be nice, Ryx," Kraglin's voice calls from where he's seated behind her. "She saved m'life - and the Cap'n's too."

She turns to look at him, and when she turns back, it looks like there might be a slight blush on her cheeks. She grasps your forearm in one of her four clawed hands; you grasp hers, and she pumps it up and down. "Thanks for saving him," she says quietly. "I-" She snaps her mouth shut abruptly and scowls, whipping her hand away to rest it haughtily on her hip. She grips your shoulder with another arm and pulls you forcefully to the side. She's shorter than you, but very strong and almost knocks you off your feet. "Get your ass on board, I gotta bring the Captain in."

"Right. Sorry."

"You're new to this Ravager thing, right?" she says curtly. "Don't apologize to anyone. Except maybe the Captain or First Mate."

"Oh. Got it. Thanks."

"And don't be so polite, the crew will eat you alive. Now get out of my way and go sit down."

You pick up your pace and sit in the seat next to Kraglin's.

“Don’t mind Ryx,” he says quietly to you. “She puts on this tough front, but she can be real sweet.” He clears his throat, and there’s a faint blue color in his cheeks. “I – uh. What I mean is she’s a good crewmate. Hard worker. Good pilot.”

You hide a smile and ask, "How are you feeling?"

"A lil' better."

"Good. Hopefully I can take care of it for real when we're onboard the - what's it called, the  _Eclector?"_ You hear Yondu's voice and turn in your seat - only to get a face full of your bag as Ryx shoves it your way. "Oof."

"Watch it, Ryx," Yondu voice comes in a slight growl.

The woman flinches slightly as she makes her way to the cockpit. "Apologies, sir."

"How're ya doin', baby?" he asks kneeling slightly to look you in the eye. 

"Good," you say with a nervous smile. 

He kisses your cheek lightly. "Buckle up, darlin'. Ship ain't movin' til my Terran is strapped in," he says with a wink. You do so as he moves to the seat next to Ryx and hits a button between their seats. "This is the Cap'n. Y'all are cleared fer takeoff, report back to the  _Eclector II."_

 _"Aye, sir. Luggh on the_ Viska _, taking off."_  the booming voice of the orange-skinned man says.

 _"Aye, Cap'n,"_  says the furry blue alien's voice,  _"Nillgrac on the_ Belko _, taking off."_

"Ryx, on the  _Cawl_ , taking off," she says after a moment. "Stand by."

The rise of the M-Ship is smooth; the changing view out the windshield is the only evidence you have that you're even moving. You hover in the air for a few minutes, seeing the area from an aerial perspective that you've never experienced. Fall colors paint the trees in all directions, and you see the wide expanse of the lake sparkling in the distance. You can just make out the willow grove, and you think you see the cabin on the hill in the distance. 

"Secured back there?" Ryx asks, looking back at Kraglin.

"Yep," the First Mate replies. "Careful with m'ship, Ryx," he says with a slight smirk, and a blush definitely springs to her cheeks. 

"Aye sir," she says, turning quickly back to the controls. 

Yondu turns back to you but doesn't say a word. You lock eyes with each other as the ship shifts directions, so its nose is pointed directly upward. With the shift of a handle and the press of a button, the ship glides forward, faster and faster. Then there's the loud explosion of the engines, and the strong push is like a fist at the small of your back - not uncomfortable, but a pressure nonetheless. Your ears pop amidst the roar of wind against the ship and the churn of the engines. Beyond Yondu, you see clouds flashing past the windshield, and then they clear, and the sunlight is so bright you’re forced to close your eyes. The bright light doesn't last long; you open them again, and you see the windshield has darkened, a transparent shield covering it. A few more seconds, and the sound outside is gone completely. 

"Jus' cleared Terra's atmosphere," Yondu says with a gentle smile at you, and turns back to the front. 

The M-ship continues to move, but it's hard to tell how fast you're going because of the lack of clouds or anything else to judge motion, and the absence of sound.

Ryx's hand goes above her head to an encased switch. She unhinges the case cover, and her finger hovers under it. "Activating A-Grav in three...two...one."

There's a moment where you could swear you lifted out of your seat, weightless like in the vortex when you first entered, but a split second later everything is settled. You even feel just a little heavier than normal.

"A'ight Ryx, take us home."

"Aye sir." 

There's a flash to Ryx's left; she pulls down a screen. "Two Kree cruisers, coming in fast, sir!"

"Not fer long," Yondu snaps, and clicks a few buttons on the console. A holographic interface surrounds his head, populating a grid. There are two blips on the screen, closing in towards the center. He lifts up and pulls a joystick towards him. "Come on, ya sonsabitches," he says in a guttural snarl. He presses on the trigger, and the entire ship rocks slightly. He grins, sharp teeth glinting cruelly. “There’s one,” he murmurs. “Bank right,” he snaps, and Ryx turns the ship. “Loop, fast!”

In a quick motion that nearly turns your stomach, the ship turns upside down in a tight circle. Through the windshield, you see what must be the Kree cruiser pass underneath your ship, at what seems to be an awfully close distance.

“Shields to max, brace yerselves!” Yondu shouts, and fires. “This is fer hurtin’ Kraglin and [y/n], ya bastards,” he hisses under his breath, and fires. _“Ha!”_ There’s a bright explosion just outside, and the ship rocks violently.

"Uh- Captain," Ryx says, pointing at a large dot on her screen. It appears on Yondu's interface, moving steadily closer to the center, towards your ship.

His face falls. "Shit. Evasive maneuvers. Krags, Doc - hold on tight." He slams a button on his wrist brace. _"Eclector II_ , come in, this is the Cap'n!"

_"Jesper here, readin' ya loud n' clear, sir!"_

"We need some backup here! Get this damn mothership off my tail!"

_"Almost to your position, Capt’n. Preparing to engage."_

Through the windshield, you see a huge, horizontal black mass glinting in the darkness – it must be the Kree mothership.

"Fire a warning shot,” Yondu orders, “Don't want that ship fallin' down to Terra. After ya shoot, patch me into their coms."

_"Aye sir."_

A few moments later, there's a bright jet of green light shooting across the bow of the Kree mothership.

_"Ready, Capt’n, go ahead."_

Yondu leans back in his seat. His voice echoes over the shipwide intercom. "This Cap'n Yondu Udonta of the Ravager ship _Eclector._ That was a warning shot. Turn yer ship around or I'll blow it to hell. Ya got ten seconds. One."

A gravelly, harsh voice crackles over the com. _"Yondu Udonta. You belong to the Kree. Give yourself up and no harm will come to your crew."_

You watch Yondu's face darken into a scowl. "Four. Five."

_"You will regret this."_

"Doubt that. _Eclector,_ prepare to fire on the Kree mothership. Eight."

_"Capt'n, the Kree ship's weapons are powering down. It seems they are preparing to jump."_

"Nine."

The black mass glows for a second, then disappears.

"Ten." Yondu sighs in relief and clicks a few buttons on the console. The holo-interface vanishes around his head. "Nice work, crew. Prepare to receive us."

_"Aye, Capt'n."_

"Take us in, Ryx."

"Aye, sir."

Yondu turns around in his seat. "Well that was excitin', huh darlin'?"

You give him a shaky grin and nod. "Nice shootin', spaceman."

He grins, then shifts further to look at Kraglin. "How ya holdin' up, son?"

"I'll be better when we're home,” the First Mate answers with a slightly-strained smile.

Yondu nods, then does double-take as he gazes out the front window. “Speakin’ a’ which.” He turns to face you and gestures towards himself. “Darlin', come here." You unbuckle and walk over to him. He pulls you down slightly next to him and points a finger out the main viewport. "There she is. The  _Eclector II."_

As your ship switches directions slightly, the light from the sun catches and illuminates a massive shape hanging in space. It’s several, possibly hundreds of decks tall, with huge engines and turbines glowing behind it. It’s a rough shape, seemingly made of a few different ships slapped together – which, if it’s anything like the previous _Eclector_ that Yondu told you about, is true. The hundreds of glittering lights, and sheer size of the ship takes your breath away. It’s quickly growing closer, filling up the entirety of your M-ship’s windshield. "Whoa."

"Nice, huh? Bigger than my first ship. Newer model. Stakar helped me outfit it. Of course, Kraglin had a lot of input, didn't ya boy."

"Yessir."

"Now, there's a med bay in the Second Quadrant," he says. "Ain't much yet, but it's all yours to do outfit as ya like."

You smile up at him. "Wow, Yondu,” you say with a squeeze to his hand. “Thank you."

"We're being hailed, Captain," Ryx says.

"Put it on coms."

"Live."

"This the Cap'n, go ahead."

_"This is Jesper, are you all set to dock, sir?"_

"Go strap in, darlin’," Yondu says quietly to you. "Confirmed, go ahead, boy."

 _"Prepare for tractor lock, three...two...one."_  The ship wobbles a little, and you see that you're being pulled into a beam of light, much like the one that lifted you in the M-ship.  _"Locked. Prepare for docking procedure."_

Before you know it, your ship is being swallowed into a long tunnel full of rings of light. Then you move upwards, and something clamps to the backside hull of the ship.  _"Docking complete, safe to disembark, Capt'n."_

Kraglin disembarks first, followed by Yondu, you and Ryx.

Yondu holds your arm, keeping you close. There are Ravagers everywhere, running back and forth. You count a dozen different races already. Ships crowd the hangar, locked in rows by huge mechanical arms, each ship painted with different colors. There are several different kinds – small ones like the ship Yondu came to Terra in, dozens of M-ships, and large vessels with what looks like several cannon barrels affixed to the front – _Constructions_ , Yondu whispers in your ear as he sees you look at them.

“Capt’n,” a young Ravager greets Yondu, tapping his fist against his chest. He looks a little like Kraglin but has light green eyes and messy brown hair that nearly hangs down to his shoulders. There’s a scar over the bridge of his nose.

“[y/n], this is Jesper. Lead Nav.”

“Hello,” you say with a nod of your head.

“Jesper, this is [y/n], our new medic.”

He looks you over once, then gives an approving nod. “Welcome aboard.” He turns to Yondu. “Destination orders, sir?”

“Dunno yet, jus’ head us in the direction of the Andromeda System, that’s good enough fer now.”

“Aye sir.” With a nod, he runs off.

Yondu leads you into the ship proper, and you can’t help but gape. Catwalks, lights, tunnels, pipes, vents and grated walkways all stretch in every direction as far as your eyes can see. Ravagers pass the two of you in the hallway, saluting Yondu and giving you curious glances. You hug your duffel against your side, clutching the handle to try and ground yourself. You’re a little overwhelmed by it all, and it doesn’t feel like it’s really sunk in just yet. You’re on a _spaceship._

"Darlin’," Yondu says, and you feel him tug at your shoulder.

You tear your eyes away from the ship’s interior to look into his face. "Yeah?"

"Did ya wanna get a last look at yer Terra?" he asks softly.

His words are almost like a slap in the face. A last look. You swallow and nod. Looping his arm around your shoulders, Yondu steers you down a nearby flight of stairs, and into a little alcove off the main hallway. He pulls down a lever on the wall, and a circular viewing port opens up from the center, metal triangles sliding into casings built around the port. You gasp and back up a step, bumping into Yondu behind you.

Earth - Terra - shines in a blanket of darkness, like a bright blue jewel on black velvet. It's about the size of a beach ball to your eyes, growing steadily smaller. You step forward again and press your hands and nose to the glass. A tear slips down your cheek. 

It feels like someone is squeezing Yondu’s heart. He approaches you quietly and runs a hand up and down your back. You lean towards him slightly, but you keep your eyes on your homeworld. "Darlin'?" Yondu whispers.

You gaze up at him, and another tear runs down your nose.

"Havin' regrets?" he asks. Fear clutches at his heart as the words leave his mouth. You're going to say yes, and demand to be taken back home.

But to his immense relief, you smile, if shakily, and say, "No." You intertwine your fingers with his. "It's just...It's not something I ever expected to see. I never dreamt I would leave the _planet_. You see pictures, and video, but it’s not like this…” you shrug as another tear escapes your eye. “I didn’t expect…expect it to be so beautiful." Your voice breaks, and you swallow visibly, blinking away more tears. “And so small.” You feel his arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you against his body. “Do you think I’ll ever see it again?”

“Oh sure, sweetheart. I know Quill’s been talkin’ ‘bout goin’ back there sometime, so when he does we’ll all go back together, all right?” He leans down and kisses your hair. You stand together, not speaking, until Terra is completely gone from view. You let out a deep breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, and wipe at your eyes.

"[y/n]," Yondu says, taking your hands gently in his so you face him, "Ya took a big risk comin' out here with me, and I'm gonna make sure ya don't regret it." He bends slightly to look you straight in the eyes. "I said once that if you were mine, I'd treat you right, and I'd always be there for ya. Now I'm makin' that a promise. I ain't gonna let ya down." He smiles, and wraps an arm comfortingly around your shoulders, pulling you against his side. "Yer mine, and I'll take care a' ya. Jus' ya wait. Ya stick by me, darlin', and I will show ya things that'll blow yer pretty lil' mind." He spreads his fingers and gestures wide with his hand, swooping it through the air in front of you.

"Thank you, Yondu." You smile up at him through your tears, and curl your arm around his waist, leaning into his sturdy frame and breathing in his scent. You’re not sure what the future holds, but if you’re sure of anything, it’s him.

 

**[End of Part One: Terra]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow. I started this as a personal little drabble that I never thought I’d share, and here it is, 18 fully fleshed-out chapters later. This is the end of Part One, but never fear - where there’s a Part One, there’s a Part Two. I’m going to concentrate on finishing up “Loyalty” before starting Vital: Part Two, but keep on the lookout for announcements and maybe even some snippets of future chapters. Thank you all for reading, I love y’all and I love getting those comments and kudos!


End file.
